A Quiet Afternoon

The house smells of pine cleaner. Floors washed, house tidy. Supper made. Afternoon quiet. Lamps filled with kerosene, dishes done. The front door is open, letting the spring like air filter in softly. Goats resting in the patch of green grass in their pasture. Harry, laying by the back door. He would rather be outside than in, now that his health is so improved. He can run, play, chase cats and stretch and yawn in the soft grass. Chickens clucking. A mad squirrel squawking at them from a low branch as a cat gets too close to his hidden treasures in the ground. It is an ordinary day. Simple. Uncomplicated by wants or a discontent heart. My needs are met and then some. I am surrounded by love and the people I love back. I have a home that is just that, home. A place I would rather be than any other place. It is familiar, and filled with comfort and the items that are dear to me. The kitchen is a warm and cheery place, where good nourishing food is served and conversation abounds at the dinner table. Laughter too along with those wonderful glances that are so full of love.

The phone rings often, children calling. Always a joy to talk with. And now a wee grand-daughter knows how to use her Mommy's cell phone to call Grammie. I love to hear her tiny voice say "Hi Grammie" and then she passes the phone to Melanie. Life is good. It is simple.