My life has been spent working for others. I got my first part-time job when I was sixteen. I wanted a car and cars cost money, ergo, one works to earn money. I didn't stop working until I turned sixty-five.
Yes, those years are now paying dividends. I'm not rich, but I have retirement funding. More importantly, I have time to enjoy my home. And what do I do? I say "yes" to filling in while a girl is on maternity leave. Someone should beat me over that.
Yesterday morning I was reminded of WHY it's important for me to be here tending to my hearth and home. I'm working on a new story and I'm spending a lot of early mornings in my office, which happens to be the sunroom. I glanced out the window in time to see the sunlight hit the hillside. It's in these quick, quiet moments that I know I belong here on the manor.
I live on the west side of the mountain. To the west of the manor, I can see the pink sky and the small town in the valley. The townies already have full sun, but I'm in the shadow of the mountain. It is on the hillside that I first see bright sunlight. It starts with a sliver of brightness that grows as it makes its way down the hill. It is constant, there in all seasons, present in every day, even on cloudy days when the rays of light slip under the clouds for far too brief a moment. These moments soothe the ache in my soul.
I did the right thing by agreeing to fill in at the old job. But if they reach out again, the right thing will be to say no. I know this because of the quiet early morning hours and something as simple as the sunlight on the hillside.
The Lady of The Hideaway
simple country pleasures, sunlight, peaceful mountain, right things, a writer's life, working hard, retirement, sunroom