Today I love the point of no return where we step into the void known as the future and willingly invest our faith and our hopes in our abilities and those of the people we have enlisted to make our home more ours, more our vision and less the vision of the original builder. I love that we have a place with good bones, despite its youth and the fact that it is fraught with the dregs of teenage angst and young adult idealism. I love that, though I wish this house were a century old because we old people like places that have proven themselves, I am happy that we are not dealing with lath and plaster and iron pipes and old wiring. I love the plans we have for this place and am excited to see them come to fruition. I love that since we’ve reduced the amenities in our current kitchen to make way for things that need to be fixed, done, or replaced, it feels more like we are cottaging here than when we go to the cottage. I love that the cupboards from here are on their way to the cottage where we’ll see if they can be used there. I love that I am caught between hoarding, which is apparently bad, and throwing stuff out, which apparently is bad, that makes me laugh, and I have decided to love myself no matter which I do and just tell myself “It’s okay, at least you’re not …..” and fill in the blank with whichever one I’m not doing when I’m doing the other thing.
Today I love that we are switching to whole wheat bread and though I kicked up a bit of a stink about it I am actually quite fond of the stuff and was reminded of that this morning when I caught the aroma of the stuff fresh out of the toaster. I love that my first experience with brown bread that I recall was with my mother at the back of a bread truck that delivered bread all over the country side back in Kemble in the days of my youth. I love that I remember asking her what it was and she told me “Brown bread, would you like to try it?” and I said “Yes, I think so.” and I was barely four at the time and it was delicious and now this morning I am four once again on a sunny morning in the drive way buying bread with my mother and that is damned fine.
Today I love good bread for toast, good butter, and good jam with my breakfast. I love that I am still alive and enjoying life. I love that I feel better today than I have in weeks and maybe months.
Today I love drinking coffee in the remains of the great room, and contemplating what a great kitchen it will eventually be.