There is a glut of light in this house. With windows on all sides, the upstairs is bright from sun-up to sun-down. In the big city, a space with this much sunlight would cost a fortune, not to mention the view.
Since coming here, I've settled into an almost monastic routine: up early and at my desk until lunch, out for a walk, back in for a nap, and at my desk again until suppertime when the study gets too hot from the sun. The evenings are quiet, with no TV (the selection of VHS cassettes left behind by previous tenants leaves something to be desired) and barely enough radio reception to break the silence. We spent the last two nights walking, listening to music and playing Scrabble until we got tired, and went to bed early.
Some people might think us crazy for spending our holiday in such an isolated place, but I can feel myself getting more and more "unplugged" each day. After losing yesterday afternoon to a sore stomach, I had a very productive writing day and my emotions are settling down. I could stand another two weeks of this, easily. Maybe a lifetime, who knows?
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