Here In My Cottage
The top of Edward’s head smells just like the sea. I have no idea why that is, but as there is often a tiny plum-coloured smudge of lipstick there, resulting from the kisses I cannot resist bestowing upon him, I speak empirically. I stoop to plant a kiss atop that furry head and suddenly...... sea winds, sand beneath my toes, the sun glowing pink behind my closed eyelids.
Apple’s head, on the other hand, smells like clover. A sunny meadow picnic, honeybees, butterflies, breezes. Again, don’t ask me why.
These are but two of the small pleasures that, for me, make life here in my cottage extraordinary. If one takes the time to notice, slows down but a fraction, these pleasures are everywhere and it seems they are especially abundant this time of year.....
The lavender scent of clean laundry - the feel of freshly starched sheets when I slip between them on a cool night.......
A house full of open windows that welcome in the caramel light of September, curtains blowing in and out with the winds that race through the summer weary rooms....
Tomato soup and cheese toast.......
Rolling out the dough for the first apple pie of the season, while Vivaldi tickles the kitchen walls with melody........
Donning that first snuggly sweater. The green one. Pulling on the first pair of newly polished boots. The brown ones.......
Drinking in the elixir of clean, crisp air on long afternoon walks with Edward when the sunlight sets the trees aglow.....
Fat orange pumpkins waiting to be carved into scary, spooky Jack o’Lanterns.....
The woodsy smell of firewood......
An old chintzware pitcher filled with newly sharpened pencils.....
That tiny, enticing crack of a new book when you open it for the very first time. And the delicious fragrance of the new, unread pages........
The painterly colours of cabbages ........
The morning crossword puzzle......
The warm feel of cool fur when the dogs come in from a early morning romp. And the way that fur smells faintly of wood smoke when they have been outside on a night when a fire blazes in the fireplace.......
Watching The Wizard of Oz on television on a dark windy night. This is especially pleasurable when I realize that Billie Burke, who played the Good Witch, was fifty-three years old when she did so!!
