First thoughts from home

The world is very green at my house. I look out any window and I see pine trees. No buildings, beyond my turn-of-the century garage, are in view. The water from the tap is cold and it surprised me the first time I tasted it upon arriving home late Saturday night.

I visited the newspaper office yesterday and it is cheerful, neat and efficient. People were happy to see me. I do my Monday evening/Tuesday morning copyediting from home and I stay away, out of respect for my competent staff and my own sense of self.

I go out for provisions for an office Christmas party scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. The two-lane roadways are empty and the speed limit seems plenty fast enough. I shop in a lovely Italian deli and a grocery store where there are no lines. The prices of the goods that I purchase are less than in California. There is no hustle and bustle energy at 11:30 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. I enjoy the quiet and keep to my singular existence.

I shovel ashes from the woodstove and remember the comfort of the dry penetrating heat. I turn my attention to Christmas cookies and daily prayers.

I feel somewhat new in this familiar place and I am extremely grateful.