“Tick tock says the clock…”
Finding home. Good morning from gray, cold Vermont. Two days before Christmas, my neighbor from across the road stopped in with gift cards from a fancy home goods store on Main Street in Stowe. My husband and I had wandered through one summer night after a maple creemee date, and I took to it immediately–its linens from Italy, china from England, and durable throw rugs from the good, old USA. This store, then, was a great place from which to choose a gift for our ever evolving home.
Yesterday I braved a snowstorm and slippery roads to visit the store and find that “one thing” to bring home. I thought at first it was the large, wide woven basket. But no, what about the practical glass food storage containers? What about the wicker tray? As I was coming around the store a third time, I spotted it–a large, red, round Newgate clock hanging cheerfully and ticking away on the white store wall. Love. At first sight. I pointed it our to the clerk, and a half hour later it was hanging centered over the threshold of my office.
It’s ten o’ clock. My financial books are closed out, and my spreadsheets are ready for a new year. I’ve caught up on the dishes, laundry, and cleaned out the messy hallway. Our new chalkboard in the kitchen says “Happy New Year.” I’ve got ten library books to read, and they aren’t due until the end of January. Scout’s been out for the morning and reclines on the arm of my office chair like the prince he was born to be. My second shawl is half done. I’m writing Quill Point again. The point is, in this household, under our circumstances, everything is as it should be as we join the new year with the old.
Next week I plan to include a few paragraphs from my new book. Right now Eva and Finn have just started vacation, and they spend their first night pitching their tent on the grounds of the Mount Washington Hotel. Will they get caught?
Check back next week for another segment of Finding Home.