I love my house.
I will never forget the first time I saw it. I fell in love with it immediately. I remember it, as it was yesterday; the drive up the blind road, reaching the top of the hill and finding paradise on earth. It was a warm, sunny July afternoon; the sky was baby blue, full with those beautiful, light, fluffy white clouds. The house was the first end house out of 5-whitewashed brick chain houses. It was the last structure up the road, on top of the hill, hidden from view. But absolutely not lacking The View. A view out of this world. The whole city at one’s feet, the roof tops, the harbor, all visible on a clear day. The serenity and the feeling of “never wanting to leave” hit me.
So I did buy it, although I really couldn’t afford it. And today I know it was the best thing I ever did.
Although I officially still live in the city and it only takes about 10 minutes drive to reach the downtown, I am also on the outskirts, surrounded by nature. In the summer, I see horses grazing not far from the window of my study, and I can follow the seasons by looking at birch trees and the never-ending cycle of the changing of their foliage. And I can see the sky from my large windows facing west, where I watch the sunsets, magnificent sunsets that makes me forget troubles and sorrows and only makes me marvel at nature and how beautiful it is, at all times. I so enjoy being at home, that traveling has now become obsolete and holds very little real pleasure for me. I still do travel, even though quiet reluctantly, as I love the feeling of returning home.
I can only really enjoy my house on the weekends. During the week I work long hours. When weekend comes, I spend fixing anything that needs to be fixed or improved either inside or outside, cleaning and gardening.
But comes Saturday afternoon, I love to just sit and relax, reading magazines, drinking coffee and listening to Mozart, with only my house as a company. Well, and Batcat of course. And occasionally a very handsome Irishman. The weekends, when he is around, I am truly happy, as then my world is complete.
Home, after family, is one of the most important things in life. It can mean different things to different people; a safe harbor, a serene place, a quiet place, or a place filled with laughter of children and voices of loved ones. A messy place or a place of order. A clean, stylish and modern place. Or a sentimental place, filled with memories and cluttered with things of affection. An old, familiar and cozy place or a new place, promising a fresh start.
But always a place one loves to return to, a place where one can just be.
I'm thinking you need another roommate... well, OK, 3 roommates ;).
I just read a study about the Scandinavian countries being some of the best in the world when it comes to standard of living, healthcare, economy, and overall happiness of its citizens. And the US fell short in EVERY area. Though my ultra-conservative family and neighbors simply can't accept that anywhere is better than here, I don't agree.
So... that whole roommate thing... let me know when we can move in ;).
Diane, my spare bedroom is ready as we speak.;)
Yes, recently Danes were voted as the happiest people in the world.;) I am not sure how true this is, but I can say that I do like living here; it is a country with strong economy, sturdy infrastructure and high living standard.
And beautiful sunsets.:)))
Great commentary! Perfect!
Thank you so much for that lovely compliment.:)
I can see why you love it there. Who wouldn't? How wonderful to feel that right about where you are living. Most of us are looking for the better home, or neighbourhood or to improve on something. The never-ending quest to make things better. What a gift to feel like you belong. Thanks for sharing. :)
Hilary, I always look for and have affinity for stability, as I have moved around so much in my life.
Thank you for that very nice comment.
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