I actually can’t see a thing since they’re so dirty they look bulletproof. Marco the window washer hasn’t been here in a while. Last I heard he was serving time for a B&E…breaking and entering…that’ll teach a girl to lock her windows. Wonder if they took away his squeege.
I love my apartment that, short of a moose head and a secret panel taking me to the deli without having to go outside, has everything I need.
How nice they threw in a kitchen I could casually pass on my way to the bathroom.
I’m told my place is charming in its spare, shabby chicness. It has a French garret look with tall glass doors separating its two rooms. Of course it’s only cozy for one and perhaps one other you’re keen on who only visits. There’s just enough elbow room for you and possibly a cat.
I’ve lived here for so long I view its proportions as perfect since my needs are few. My bed, bath and desk are my primary checkpoints since you can usually find me in one or the other.
I love at the end of the day to soak before burrowing in my bed, my books alongside me like a fort of virtue. We also have the goodie drawer in my bedside table stocked with mints, M&Ms and Hershey’s Kisses. A friend gave me a standing pewter lamp with a perfect glow allowing me to read well into the night.
My desk is just a hop, skip and a jump for me to hop online or add to an essay, my totems lined up like noble watchmen. There’s St. Francis holding an armful of birds, a little duck that waddles and quacks…a rock I took from Eleanor Roosevelt’s backyard beside pictures of loved ones, framed in silver, round my faded, quilted Pierre Deux bulletin board. Now that’s an eye opener, what hangs to inspire.
My Audrey calender my friend Joe gave me…so hope he gives me another since I love it so, her style reminding me to kick start my own. Pictures of Carmela and Rosie the cat, my granddad having lunch, Ed in a tux and a mama seal hugging her pup.
Post-its say things like...be gentle with yourself…stay where your feet are and plunk your magic twanger, Froggy.
A new addition is a list of writing tips by Jane Kenyon, a brilliant poet who died at 47 though written years ago, resonates as if penned today.
1) Protect your time
2) Feed your inner life
3) Avoid too much noise
4) Read good books; have good sentences in your ears
5) Be by yourself as often as you can
7) Take the phone off the hook
8) Work regular hours
Jane Kenyon (May 23, 1947 – April 22, 1995)
Looking out my window, whether I can see or not, still opens me up to the world I’ve so, without much conscious thought, lovingly created.