A happy place
I love being on the island. Just everything about it feeds me.
We start off with a quick trip to Trader Joe's where I buy vegetables and dairy, fruit and maybe frozen fish. Perhaps wine, chocolate and flowers. I eat well here.
I sleep until the east light wakes me. The bed is perfectly comfortable, the room is the perfect temperature.
I love waking up to the sound of my husband puttering around. (In our regular house the sleeping quarters are far removed from where awake people would be, so I never hear them as I wake. I prefer to. At home I always wake with a feeling of being abandoned, alone. At the cottage I feel part of things.
I went for a walk in the sunshine by the ocean. I ran into friends and stopped to talk. Another couple approached and as they joined us the woman said something about not realizing she'd see people she knew when she got dressed. Her husband pointed out that we were on the island in January. Of course we were going to know anyone we saw. Yes. That. This becomes a village with 1000 people in the winter. A very kind and beautiful village.
My rose bush, transplanted this fall to the south side, is still in leaf. The kale is, too. Hardy plants bless me.
My husband talks to me here. On long walks without any one to listen, or early in the morning before Small Boy is up. He tells me the true things that he doesn't want to say but that I need to know. I can't say that I enjoy what is going on, but there is a grace that it is happening at all. This place holds us in the kindest and most beautiful place possible.
We play games here. Yesterday we played Dixit for the first time. We also read books. I am well-rested.
I love being here. I love the view of the water. The green surf at high tide today. The beautiful wet rocks at low tide. The house sized to fit. I am happy here.
And that will be enough for right now. No sense mourning what isn't dead. I am just going to be happy while happiness is on offer.
We start off with a quick trip to Trader Joe's where I buy vegetables and dairy, fruit and maybe frozen fish. Perhaps wine, chocolate and flowers. I eat well here.
I sleep until the east light wakes me. The bed is perfectly comfortable, the room is the perfect temperature.
I love waking up to the sound of my husband puttering around. (In our regular house the sleeping quarters are far removed from where awake people would be, so I never hear them as I wake. I prefer to. At home I always wake with a feeling of being abandoned, alone. At the cottage I feel part of things.
I went for a walk in the sunshine by the ocean. I ran into friends and stopped to talk. Another couple approached and as they joined us the woman said something about not realizing she'd see people she knew when she got dressed. Her husband pointed out that we were on the island in January. Of course we were going to know anyone we saw. Yes. That. This becomes a village with 1000 people in the winter. A very kind and beautiful village.
My rose bush, transplanted this fall to the south side, is still in leaf. The kale is, too. Hardy plants bless me.
My husband talks to me here. On long walks without any one to listen, or early in the morning before Small Boy is up. He tells me the true things that he doesn't want to say but that I need to know. I can't say that I enjoy what is going on, but there is a grace that it is happening at all. This place holds us in the kindest and most beautiful place possible.
We play games here. Yesterday we played Dixit for the first time. We also read books. I am well-rested.
I love being here. I love the view of the water. The green surf at high tide today. The beautiful wet rocks at low tide. The house sized to fit. I am happy here.
And that will be enough for right now. No sense mourning what isn't dead. I am just going to be happy while happiness is on offer.