Especially in the very early morning as the sun is coming up and I’m quiet and everything is quiet. It feels so safe. Safe and secure. Not like a vault or bunker; not harsh and single-purposed like that, like a defense from outside thing. Safe like the room where you grew up, secure like zipping up a sleeping bag on a backpacking overnighter.
We had the floors redone last year. We also had the floors redone when we moved in, so maybe we had the floors reredone last year. The initial redoing was not redone well, and all the cheap laminate was buckled and coming apart at the seams. We redid it in tile. Cold and hard but much stronger feeling than the falling-apart-too-soon laminate. The sturdiness of then tile adds to the feeling of security. A layer of ceramic atop a slab of concrete, upon which more concrete blocks are stacked as outside walls. Our 1600sqft fortress.
Sometimes I have to remind myself to take my enjoyment of the place. With two “free” days each week, it’s tempting to forever fill them with trips and outings. I have to remember to take a Saturday or Sunday here and there to enjoy this place – to swim in our pool and cook food in our kitchen and to wrap myself in a blanket and read a book on our couch as the sun comes up.
I know that I’ve written about this before, and I’ll probably write about it again as it’s a feeling that I experience often.
Also written on this day...
- way to go, song-picker guy - 2011
- i'm-a still go - 2010
- a friday - 2009
- weekend minus one - 2007
- like a ton of bricks - 2006
- the bonecrusher - 2005
- drinking wrong since day one - 2004