Sitting at the kitchen table: late afternoon sun pouring through the windows. The wood stove is warm; Abby is lying contendly on the rug. Peace in the house.
Feels like home. Simon will be home from work soon and all will feel right. I think that’s the word I’m looking for: right. This is the place I am meant to be. This place where Simon’s stuff is littered all over the place; this place that Simon loves. Yeah, sometimes you have to leave home to know where home is – and home is wherever Simon is.
All of this is a long, roundabout way of saying that I am home and it’s wonderful. Love is wonderful – to give and receive it in equal measure feels like a miracle.
I am blessed.
I had a lovely snowshoe this morning with Abby while we had two house showings. We had snow and ice and absolute solitude in the woods.
and then the unexpected treat of lunch with Simon at Appletree.