Don’t get me wrong. I had a great vacation. I loved spending time with people who are dear to me. I loved all the new sights and all the fresh ideas I brought home with me.
But I love being at home.
As I get older I think it hits me more.
I just love to close the door, batten down the hatches and hibernate.
It isn’t helped by the fact that I work from home. That just allows me to be even more antisocial.
I love seeing friends, but as the nights draw in and the first frosts crisp the leaves it takes an almighty effort to get me out of the house in the evening. (I should add at this point that I do pretty much always enjoy myself once I do make the effort…). Given the choice though, it’s a warm bath full of lavender oil, a good book and some gentle sock knitting for me.
Even doing the day I would prefer to stay here. When I really can’t avoid going out – empty fridge syndrome or mom’s taxi service – I find I’m being super-efficient to try to combine as many errands as possible to minimize how often I have to venture out. I just don’t want to be out there. I want to be inside, snug as a bug in a rug. And pootling around, doing a bit of work, a little housework, some baking. Just being home. It’s great.
And it hasn’t even snowed yet.
By the way…the photo was taken last week on Vancouver Island, near Nanaimo. Autumn at the ocean.