New Views

What a lovely lunch I had the other day.


Shredded the last bits of a 22 lb turkey. Sliced some celery. Diced the last few sweet pickles. Sprinkled in some raspberry vinaigrette. Stirred in a little Miracle Whip. I've never eaten a fuchsia-tinged turkey salad before.










I perched on the end of the twin bed in my living room. It's serving as my sofa until I find a new one, one without memories. Sold the other one to my son.









After so many years in this house, I'm actually getting a different view out my beloved picture window.













I'm well into my 18th year of living in this house. That simple fact astounds me at times. I spent the first 17 years of my life in one house and then after that, I moved every year or two or three.

It's a whole new feeling to live in one "building" for that many years. Maybe not for other people, but definitely for me.

At one point, two grown-ups, three children, one dog and one cat lived here. One by one they all left except for me. And I labor every day to set this house free from sad memories, and let it be a place of fresh joy and vibrant life. That means a lot of physical work, clearing away outgrown items, repainting, pulling out old carpet.




But it also means fresh thought. New views. Seeing old rooms with new eyes. Using familiar objects for unfamiliar purposes.

















Life can sparkle, can't it?















(P. S. Over to the right of this entry, you can click on the BearLodge emblem and see my new front page essay . . . )