I am most at home in my kitchen surrounded by few of my most-loved and well-used things. As soon as I expect company, the tea-kettle and coffee-maker, both gifts from my daughter, are notified. As water boils in my ancient copper tea-kettle, I grind coffee beans in the battered coffee-mill. Soon tea steeps in the butterfly teapot a sister gave me while I fill my polka-dot chicken creamer and sugar bowl. A plate of cookies, snacks or hot biscuits and a few flowers from my yard brighten the home-crafted drop leaf table my husband built. The tiny table-topper cloth came to me from another sister. Although in the past, I prided myself on newer things, these old favorites warm my heart today and say “Welcome, Friend” like nothing else.
“Come on in and sit awhile.”
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Home Turf.”
Welcome to my writing room. I’ve surrounded myself with things that make me happy. Most items are old. I bought the tiny battered desk under the window as damaged. The cane bottom chair was a gift from Mother. Her parents bought it used when they set up housekeeping with it in 1912. She helped her father re-cane it in 1932. My grandpa Continue reading
I stumbled onto your first post yesterday. I was moved by your struggle dealing with sexual abuse and bipolar disorder. I congratulate on having the courage to open your heart to a caring community of people who will support you in your struggles and joy. You have found friends who will come to depend on you as you will depend on them. Continue reading