I have been slowly getting back into my rhythm and routines and doing a lot more in the house. It's more like the first six or seven years of this simple life, before things got busy again. Most of us feel fulfilled by good choices and have to live with the consequences of the bad ones. I can't say that my writing and what came from it was a bad choice, but it took me to places unexpected and away from some newly discovered values. One thing I have learnt by living as we do is that there are not too many things that can't be stopped or modified to remain on our chosen path. I think I did a lot of modifying in the past few years so that I could do everything I had to do, but I stopped doing some of the things I wanted to do. It's easier now. I've stepped back, made new choices and I'm feeling happy about where we're heading.
My plan now is to get back to that easy, benign routine I had back then. One thing lead into another, we got bread baked, beds made, laundry done, floors cleaned, gardening organised and still had time to sew, knit, preserve, visit, read or just sit watching the chickens in the garden. I have just started my ritual of opening and closing the bedroom window again. It used to be part of my routine to make the bed and open the window every morning. We have three windows in the bedroom and this is the one on the shady side of the house. The window can be open most of the year but I loved to open it in the morning to let in the fresh air and close it in the late afternoons of winter when the temperature dropped. That one simple act of opening and closing the window made me feel I was taking care of my home and us - especially in winter when closing it kept the warm afternoon air in and shut out the cold air of night. It was a silent confirmation of sorts that we could make things better and more comfortable here by carrying out these small daily acts of home life.
I'm not sure why I stopped opening and closing the bedroom window. It was probably busyness or being focused on writing but I'm glad I found my way back to it, particularly at this time of year when the temperatures are about to get colder. My life is made up of a lot of small activities that give me pleasure - taking hot bread form the oven, letting the chickens out at first light, sitting and thinking on the front verandah, sleeping in a bed with just-washed sheets that have dried in the sunlight. I have a lot to be thankful for. I'm pleased I remembered this, this small and unimportant bedroom window, and that opening and closing it still feels as good as it used to.
What are your small pleasures? Are they part of your routine?
What are your small pleasures? Are they part of your routine?
