Last weekend I was in Boston, which is where I’ll be spending most weekends until the kitchen is done (including this one). Not that I need an excuse to go to Boston, but this one is legit. (I’m finally getting tired of walking through dust, ducking under drop-cloths and plastic, and coughing from whatever is in the air.) I may even spend a super-long weekend there that brings me into the New Year if I can figure out some parking ideas (or pony up for a garage). The point is, I’ll be happily ensconced in the condo for an extended time, and I couldn’t be more pleased.
It is one of the places where I feel grounded and safe. No matter what storms may rage outside, and no matter what storms may rage inside of me, Boston has always provided a safe haven, especially in the winter. It’s quieter there. I don’t usually turn on the television (I don’t think we get cable) and only when people come over do I play music. Reading books and writing letters occupies my time, but so does doing nothing ~ sitting on the couch or in a chair by the front window ~ its own form of meditation and contemplation. It’s a good place to get back to basics.
There is a working kitchen too, so I can pick up some supplies at the market then cook up a meal, which is a luxury these days ~ a cozy, comforting luxury. Kira and I made a lovely brunch while in town this past weekend, and it was a nice change of pace to spend a slow, lazy Saturday morning just padding around in our pajamas, leisurely setting up the food, and talking over hot tea while bagels toasted and the room filled with the scents of breakfast.
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