It's been a long hot summer, filled with anxiety from nearby forest fires, and air filled with smoke, day after day. It kept me indoors most of the time. Even though summer is not my favorite season, I feel like I have been robbed.
But now that the fires are out, the air is clear, and the temperatures more moderate, I decided to reclaim Hen's Rest which has languished, unoccupied for months.
I spent several hours out there today. Vacuuming spider webs, moving furniture, cleaning surfaces that actually had some ashes from fires that had blown in. [This building is in no way airtight, though it is quite watertight, thank God.] I took all the tea things indoors and washed them. And finally sprayed for spiders.
It's hard to take accurate pictures inside. It's one of those places that you have to see for yourself to get the true nature of its charms.
I mean, it used to be a chicken coop. Sometimes that's hard to remember. The carpeting is what fools you. My brother put it down for me some years ago. It looks brand new still.
Here's the view from the chair, looking out the door this afternoon:
Please note the blue sky. 🌞
I made all this effort not only as a reclamation of a treasured space, but I have a plan.
I have decided to take an entire week, nine days actually, to disengage from my commitments. Because I don't care to do any traveling right now, I'm organizing a retreat for myself. I have an entire list of things I want to do. All my favorite kinds of things. Reading, writing, yoga, photography, walking, doing Zentangles, going on a picnic.... all the things. No schedules or self-imposed timelines. I need a kind of reset. A time of recovery and healing from the many life-altering changes that have happened this last year.
On my list is one more thing. I want to write letters to people. Snail mail letters.
So, here's my offer. If you would like to receive a letter written at the little desk in Hen's Rest, put your name and address in a private comment on this entry, and I would be happy to write you one.
I have four more days to prepare. I was even thinking about assembling a kind of spa basket that you might get as a gift if you were going to a real retreat.
(Isn't that taking this fantasy just a little bit too far?)
You know, I think YOU should go on a retreat .... somewhere ELSE!
(You mean I'm not invited to this one?)
Only if you behave yourself.
(I'm not making any promises.)
Then I'm not making you a welcome basket.
(Fine. I don't like bath salts anyway.)
How about chocolate?
(Wait, there will chocolate?)
Too late! No basket for you!
