1. The porch. Hummingbird wars are witnessed at close, dangerous quarters. We supervise the flowers. Striped panthers slink between pots, hunting sunflower seeds. Another world unfolds there.
2. My kitchen. My cabinets. What I do there. How I feed people, and make them happy there.
3. The garden. Love/hate. Mostly love, especially this year. The soil was fed by slow melt, encouraging plant growth that has been epic. That was even despite six weeks of no rain. (I was the rain.)
4. Space for my interests. All of them. The guest room is now a loom room. I am fortunate, indeed.
5. Space to exercise in the basement. The flies and spiders watch, amused, at aimless activity. None of it is focused on getting food, or working hard to not BE food. They do not understand.
6. The airiness of the spaces.
7. Space for our cars in the garage. (Our last house had only one garage bay.)
8. The front steps. Solid, imposing, but restrained.
9. A room of my own. Bills are paid. I keep watch from the windows to make sure the knaves do not approach.
10. Bookshelves for my books. I am buying fewer, as are most of us. But I like to know I can find what I need.
The front landscaping eclipsed Ms. Peony Dawn over the years. She was shaded out, and almost died. The past winter's storms destroyed the shrubs. Mr. Etherknitter hacked and pulled out derelict bushes in May. Ms. Dawn's resurrection was part of the reward. The front line is planted anew, with room for all.
