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Date:10/22/2014 2:47:55 PM
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"The Happy Place"
Tonight's blog is a break from the "Neighbors" series. This is because tonight beckons the incursion of the worst Winter cold front since 1996 (which I remember only too well). Last year about this time I had posted a number of entries about "coziness", and the feeling of being warm and secure against the worst that Winter has to offer. Tomorrow will bring an Arctic (or more correctly), a Siberian high front which will by Monday night, send temperatures down to 25 degrees below zero. So now I shall talk about one's "Happy Place", c'est-a-dire (that is to say), the place where each of us would love to go to in order to find solace and happiness in the face of dire extremity. A Facebook contributor I follow, Christine's Favorites, provides wonderfully restful scenes that appeal to soulful people. I can easily imagine myself ensconced among the pillows, bolsters, and comforters in front of a cheery fire as I drift off to the land of Morpheus. (In other words, to the more practical among us; I would love to go to sleep in a comfy bed in front of a good fire.)
Whenever I find myself awake at night, I put myself in a "happy place". I imagine either that I'm bedded down in front of a good camp fire with the wind moaning through the pines overhead or that I'm some furry creature, rabbit or rodent, nestled down in a warm and cozy den with food close at hand, watching the snow fall outside my burrow. Childish? Maybe. But when I can hear the Winter wind rattle the chimes outside our bay window in the middle of the night it puts me in a comforted state of mind.
During last Winter's coldest snap I had quoted Hal Borland on how "Man is a natural fire-tender, has been since ancient times.man being". So by now you know just how much I love a good woodstove fire. A few days ago Eldest Brother David, who, as I mentioned, is in very poor health, asked me to put in a replacement piece of stovepipe in his basement. With the help of David's son Matt, and under the old man's supervision, I replaced the pipe, cleaned out the box stove and then built a good fire. My son Andrew had come over in order to do some other tasks and when he came down to join us, the four of us sat around the stove. Much like the story I had told last year at this time, the four of us warmed ourselves, and then moved our chairs backwards at intervals as the heat became more intense. Eldest Brother mentioned (more than once) how much he enjoyed sitting there with us. David and I told the younger two stories about fires past and after they had listened respectfully for awhile, our sons departed and my brother and I were left to attend the fire ourselves. I do not know what the future holds for Eldest Brother, or indeed, for myself; but my Ruthie, in her instinctive way, observed that God must be granting David some time to experience special moments as his life experience comes to a close. Neamoins, (nevertheless) I treasure this fire-tending moment.
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