[Ed.: A certain Fairy Godknitter inspired today’s post. ]
I have never understood women who say they could never stay at home.
Maybe it’s more accurate to say that while I understand their viewpoint, I don’t espouse it. I have said before and will probably say again that I have a great job that I enjoy very much. Not being independently wealthy or having a convenient money tree in the backyard, I’m quite lucky in this regard.
That said, I love being at home. I rarely tire of it. I can easily pass a weekend without getting in the car – I’ll walk places, but often don’t venture farther than I can hoof it. Over the holidays, I generally take some time off from work, and I’m literally just settling into a comforting routine when it’s time to strap on my boots and go back to the office.
It helps that my favorite pastimes are best done at home – reading, cooking, writing, knitting. It also helps that my kids are past the point where our presence together at home means a lot of physical work for me – I do recall the days when tending to their needs was monotonous and exhausting, and the freedom I would feel when someone would offer to take over for a few hours while the Jef and I went out to dinner or even on some dull errand.
It also helps that I not only love the people I share a home with, but I also love spending time with them. My daughters are great company – and we’ve even got D2 knitting a garter stitch scarf, so the three of us can sit and knit and freak out the poor Jef. And Jef – in spite of his complete lack of understanding of the allure of sticks and string – is my best friend. I admit to the occasional urge to use said sticks and string for other than their intended use when I’m accused of improperly loading the dishwasher, but I’d sorta miss it if he wasn’t picking on me. And, as he pointed out the other day, after almost 20 years, it would be too much work to start over.
I do enjoy traveling, but I’m always ready to come home at the end of a trip. I am a creature of habit and environment. If I’m in a hotel room or even staying in someone else’s home (not my favorite, to be quite honest) I’ll nest around until I’ve got a workable routine for the duration. Lord Forbid that my home away from home lacks caffeinated coffee. Morning coffee and the availability of a hair dryer are two ironclad necessities if I’m to spend a night away from home. (I’m suspicious of people who don’t need a morning jolt – and I really don’t appreciate their smugness when I’m neurotically verifying whether I can get my cup upon arising.)
East or west, home is truly best.
[Image from freefoto.com cuz I’m lame]