The Comfort of Home

Laurinda and Makiya have run out to the store. Gerry is downstairs—booking hikes or playing solitaire on his computer, I’d wager. Maya and Murphy are munching on their supper—a delectable mixture of Royal Canin Yorkshire Terrier kibble with a touch of Royal Canin loaf and gravy mixed in for flavour. This, mostly for Maya’s sake. After a lifetime of homemade food, it’s a little something extra I started when we transitioned to kibble after we brought Murphy home.

The sun is shining but there’s still frost on rooftops where the sun hasn’t touched the space today. Makiya reported there was still frost on the ground on the playground when she was there earlier. It’s coming. We know it. Before long the ground will be white and I’ll happily settle in for the winter at home.

I’m listening to the comforting sound of the clothes dryer. There’s something about it that is peaceful. Do you know what I mean?  Maybe it’s the ordinariness and predictability of warm, clean clothes being readied for the week ahead, or the almost-hypnotic sound of tossing clothes, whatever it is it’s soothing, like the sound of the furnace humming on cold mornings or turning the lights on on dark afternoons.

The simple, comfort of home. Priceless.

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I’m a writer, reader, photographer, and gardener. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things.

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