Once I'm finished writing for the morning, I like to wander around and just "be" in my house. I know how weird that sounds, but I spent a lot of time this past year away from home. Now that I'm here 24/7, I intend to enjoy and savor and relish every minute at H-O-M-E, which for me means basking in the morning light.
The foyer continues to be one of my favorite places. The wallpaper, the cheery rug, the canes I've collected these past couple of years and the family photos make me happy all day long, but this space is especially pretty in the morning.
After so many years of decorating spaces, I know what I like and what I need. I like/need flowers and color and lots of light. In our old house, I wrote in the sunroom. Oodles of light there, obviously. When we moved there was no upstairs space for writing, so my office was stuck in the basement. It took me three years to realize that just wasn't working. So, I bought a Mac Book Air and came up for air (and, yes, light). Now I write in the living room or on the screened porch or in the family room.
Back when I was a teenager and could sleep until noon, I thought my mother was crazy for saying things like, "Oh, I just love the morning!" And she did love the morning. She sang along with the radio while "putting on her face," as she called it. She often phoned friends early in the morning. At her office she was the first person to arrive. In this respect I am a lot like my mother. I love the morning. I love the promise of another day. I love toast with butter and the smell of coffee, even though I don't like its taste. I love the squeak of the front door and the feel of clean dishes, still warm from the previous night's drying cycle. These are blessing, right?
A home is such a blessing.
No wonder we blog about it and spend so much time tending to it.
No matter how grand or modest, I like to look at houses and imagine how the setting has shaped the people inside.
Our house tells a story. It signals how we live. Do we fling the windows open in spring or keep them shut? Do we cut the grass or let it go to seed? I once knew someone who left a pair of trimming shears on the front porch until they completely rusted. We're talking years. It was fascinating in a strange way, but it also made me wonder what else he'd neglected to bring in from the elements.
I'm not sure how I went from morning light to rusted trimming shears, but there you have it. Enjoy the morning and the rest of your day!