We've all been under the weather for the last week. After visiting the doctor, I took a long well deserved nap.
Worked on reading Debbie Macomber's last installment of the Cedar Cove novel series. It's not that I am a fan of romance novels but I love any series set in a small town with regular characters. Jan Karon's Mitford series started my love of the genre. With limited time, I don't usually reread books but I certainly would like to reread the Mitford series. I learned a lot about my spiritual journey through the lives of each of the characters but especially through Father Tim.
To be honest, this time of year fills me with nostalgia. A yearning for Christmas past. It is during this season where my desire to hibernate mingles with the saddness of missing my mother. In my thoughts, she sits contently knitting with I love Lucy or the Lawrence Welk show playing in the background.
In a different chapter of my life, she would visit me for months at a time, we would visit nurseries, work on my garden, and craft while watching Sabado Gigante. These were very good times.
I am definitely homesick but not for a particular house or a particular time. It's more a feeling of anticipation and a longing for a certain comfort. Moments like Thanksgiving mornings when I would wake up to the smell of my mother's roasting turkey and the cladder of pans in the kitchen. I am especially susceptible to these melancholy feelings when I am under the weather.
This little dinette puts me in the perfect frame of mind. Of course, my mother would never have had a
yellow dinette. She was known to say, "Where would bad taste be without yellow?" The round rag
rug, however, was keeping with her style.
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