Most of the time, my house is busy. It's full of people, it's full of pets. Quiet moments in my house are few and far between. It's made me appreciate stolen moments of quiet in my life. Every once in a while, I find that I'm the first person up in the morning, and if I leave the dogs locked in the bedroom with Jason, I can steal away downstairs to the living room and enjoy a few minutes of uninterrupted quiet. Even nicer is when I somehow manage to be the only person in the house still awake in the evening. Something about being in the house at night, when the whole world is quiet and still makes me feel comforted. I can just sit in the living room, cloaked in the semi-darkness provided by lighting one single lamp, and enjoy the peace. I can sip a cup of tea, wrap up in a blanket and know that this short moment of silence and tranquility is mine. I don't have to share it, I don't have to discuss it with anyone. I can just listen to it, and appreciate it for the brief span of time that it will last before a dog barks, or someone comes downstairs for a glass of water, or the cats begin chasing one another. This short time belongs to me, and I can envelope myself in it for as long as I wish. I like knowing that even in the constant hum of our noisy lives in this house, there are moments that I can carve out just for me.