Back Porch Vacation

I woke this morning feeling mellow. I poured my coffee and took it out on the back porch. There I sat, barefoot, in my long black shirt, rocking in a porch chair. I watched Lu make a circuit - up the little hill, along the back fence through the bushes, down the hill by the neighbors' fence, sniffing her way along the perimeter.

I called my baby sister. "I'm on vacation." I could hear her thinking: "Vacation? And she was too broke to make it to family reunion two weeks ago?" I explained my excursion to the porch. "Oh." She was not impressed. In my mind, however, that tiny excursion was a magical journey.

I selected this house to be my "retirement home". Moreover, I chose it to be my sanctuary. It is small, built around a central room that is my lounge, office, entertaining space and kitchen. I feel the walls of this house enclosing me, making a cocoon but in a safe, cozy way, not as a jail, not claustrophobic.

My daughter has a room here. It is in use very seldom this year-less than six weeks. But for her piles of possessions and art supplies, it could be a guest room. There is one more bedroom. In my mind, it is a room of possibilities. It contains the miscellaneous craft supplies, printer, unfinished knitting projects that I haven't yet relegated to organized, efficient storage. But it also has a bed, a desk, a usable closet-the basics of personal space for an as yet unseen visitor or even a permanent companion. The possibilities room.

Here on my couch, I am surrounded by the things that make my life livable-art, books, yarn. A full rack of knives, two crockpots, fruit on the kitchen counters, with a canister of anti-bacterial wipes. Old, broken-in furniture. Homemade curtains. Peace. Perfect peace.

Peace!