THE CURIOSITY OF HAVING AN ENEMY

I found out recently that I have an enemy.  I have lived a long life and never had an enemy before.  Well maybe once.  A girl in 5th grade pulled my hair so hard that I can still today conjure-up the sting on my scalp. She had told everyone that she was a princess and a friend and I made fun of her.  We were wrong and she let us know it.  I knew nothing about difficult families in 5th grade.

It's the enemy I have today that is the surprise.  It is a strange feeling to know someone who wishes to cause you emotional distress.  My grown-up experience with enemies has always been through the Psalms.  The authors of the Psalms are besieged by enemies--wicked people and liars, gossip-bearers and false tale-bearers--from whom they seek deliverance and rescue.  "Silence all my enemies and destroy all my foes." Psalm 143. 

Someone who chooses to be an enemy is deeply flawed and narcissistic. She is not used to being thwarted.  She feels superior and wrote to a friend, "Let's get together and discuss our innate superiority."  

So, someone who decides to be your enemy has friends, family, maybe even followers.  But no one should waste their time this way, acting only in service to oneself no matter how cleverly disguised. 

I hope this has not happened to you. But if you have an enemy, shut the door.  The door of an enemy leads to nowhere. 

SLOW JOURNEYING THROUGH ALASKA

Glaciers, Prince William Sound

My husband and I spent many months planning what he calls our Great Alaska Adventure, June-July 2016.  We began with five nights in Fairbanks in a cabin on the banks of the Chena River.  We did everything local we could find--a Fish bake with wood-grilled salmon, wild Alaskan cod, and snow crab; a summer solstice baseball game lasting into the wee hours of the morning; a river cruise by stern wheeler; and a visit to the training grounds of the Iditarod dogsled team. We used local shuttles to get from one adventure to another.

We plunged into the scenic wilderness of central Alaska by taking the Alaska Railroad Goldstar domed train to Denali National Park.  There we hiked, rented self-drive jeeps and photo-hunted moose and the elusive Denali.  We took the same train to Anchorage and rented a car for the drive to Alyeska, a glacier-carved valley in Girdwood, Alaska.  In the midst of seven glaciers, Alyeska became our base camp for trips to Whittier and the glaciers of Prince William Sound and Seward and Resurrection Bay.

On the road 

Amazingly, we saw every single bird, fish and mammal we hoped to encounter, from moose to whales, to puffins, to otters, to seals, to birds of every variety.  The rookeries lining the cliff edges of Prince William Sound were so swirlingly noisy they outdid even the waterfalls.

Rookery, Prince William Sound

Now we monitor the Fairbanks weather and sunlight.  On December 21, the winter solstice, the sun rose at 10:50 a.m. and set at 2:41 p.m.  Three hours forty-two minutes of daylight!  There were fireworks downtown to celebrate the shortest day.  I wish we had been there.

REFLECTIONS--THE GREAT DISMAL SWAMP

We took a slow journey through the Eastern Shore of Virginia.  I've written about slow journeying before.  It doesn't take more time.  You see less, but see it closer.  Some people call this easy pace vacations, or smart travel or insight travel. Different from stealing some sightseeing time on a business trip, which most of us do when we can.  But sometimes, as we all know, less is more. Our plan this time was to stay on the Chesapeake Bay in Virginia, less than a 4 hour drive away, and meet up with old friends.  

Chesapeake Bay Beach, Virginia

Sunset over the Bay the First Night

Then cross the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel (17.6 miles of bridge and two one mile tunnels for shipping lanes), an engineering marvel. I'd been wanting to cross this bridge for ages.  There's no superstructure. It's low level trestle style with single tube tunnels.  The bridge begins in Virginia Beach and ends in Cape Charles by the Bay, a beautiful small town nestled in Virginia's Eastern Shore.  So worth visiting!

Then stay on Chincoteague Island, enjoy the National Wildlife Refuge, and view the wild horses on Assateague Island.  We had only 3 nights, so maybe that doesn't sound slow paced enough, but somehow it was.  An over-the-top nature experience.  Of course we saw the horses.  We caught them grazing at dusk.  I didn't get a good photo of the horses, but my snowy Egret is in a lovely setting, isn't it? More daylight. Delicate long legs on it's own slow journey. I love the reflections in the water.

Finally on the drive back we went through the Dismal Swamp on the Virginia-North Carolina Border.  It's a Coastal Plain Swamp.  These are the most wonderful photos to me.  The reflections made the swamp not dismal at all.  Buggy maybe, but so beautiful to see the clouds and trees upside down.  I read the history later.  What is amazing is that the water is only 6 feet deep.  When you are there it looks much deeper because of the reflections.  We weren't lucky enough to see otters or weasels, and didn't want to run into a black bear or bobcat.  But the birds and bald cypress were plentiful.  We enjoyed it all.  See what you think.

Canal at Great Dismal Swamp

Clouds and Trees, Dismal Swamp

Usually an upside down world connotes something stressful--politics maybe, or something askew at home or at work.  Not here.  Here the trees, clouds and water brought nothing by awe and wonder.  It seems misnamed for sure. 

SIMPLIFY YOUR LIFE BY SHEDDING WORRIES

I was in a church recently where a prayer card was handed out.  The prayer was by Thomas Merton (1915-1968)--American Catholic, mystic, Trappist monk.  Merton's prayer begins,

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.   

I do not see the road ahead of me.  

I cannot know for certain where it will end. 

Do we not all feel like this sometimes?  No idea where we're going.  No idea where our path will end.  What can we do when we feel like this?  Each of us may have a different answer.  Merton was a Christian so turned to God.  He says to his God,

"I know. . . you will lead me by the right road 

though I may know nothing about it.  

Therefore I will trust you always 

though I may seem to be lost. . . ."

This prayer helps me.  Some problems seem insurmountable don't they? We all have them.  Toxic people.  Deception or disloyalty.  Illness, aging, death.  Loss or fear of loss.  Even the young can fear growing older without the accomplishments they expected. A job, a spouse, a house, children, financial independence--each can seem out of reach.  Life has never been easy.

Would our lives be simpler, better, if we shed our worries about what we cannot change?  Experts seem to think so.  First to tackle is the PAST.  William Faulkner says "The Past is not Dead.  It's not even Past."

He is not talking about good things in our past, that is clear. But those things we wish had never happened.  

Because the past is immutable, we cannot wish actions or words away, hurt we either caused or endured.  Trauma fades, but something that devastates us fades imperfectly and not on our timetable.  We can only try to understand and fashion a narrative we can move forward with.  And as always, keep close company with those who understand and value us, whether one or many. A person, a pet, or even a memory. 

My own prayer is shorter than Merton's.  I simply ask God to help and guide me.  Or, the anonymous prayer "God be in my heart, and in my thinking."  That's it. No specifics.  No hamstringing God.  I don't have to define the problem, or fashion the solution. All I have to know is that I need help.

Of course this isn't foolproof.  Sometimes I ask too late, or with a hidden agenda.  But the gain from shedding worries about things we cannot change is immeasurable. We might call it the Peace of God.

FRANK LLOYD WRIGHT AND NATURE

"I believe in God only I spell it Nature."  So said Frank Lloyd Wright (186-1959). "Stay close to Nature. . . . It will never fail you," he told his students.

"Just connecting to beauty is consoling.  You see that people don't only make wars; they can also create great works of art."  Marieke Nijmanting

We were fortunate this winter to realize one of those life-time goals we all have. We visited Fallingwater in rural Pennsylvania.  The day was a lovely, crisp 18 degrees.  But the waterfall over which the house is built kept on flowing.  The noise of nature a constant for the people who lived there.  Somehow the freezing cold for two North Carolinians made it just that more memorable.  This picture is taken from across the creek, looking back at the cantilevers that jut out from the body of the house and follow the waterfall itself.

A fire burned in the open hearth and the furniture was swathed in fur rugs and blankets.  A true house built upon a rock. 

The shadows cast in the winter sunlight were stark with symmetry.  See how they crisscross?  It seemed like a very livable home, one that, even with the expanse of open space would cozen you in winter and free you in summer.  We were awed. 

Later in the week we went to the Guggenheim Museum across from Central Park in NYC.  It is said that Wright was inspired by the nautilus shell in designing the spiral ramp.  As someone with a twenty-year collection of sea shells, I resonated to that.  The museum seems to be a spiritual place, with rhythm and movement, unfolding like an organism.  Look at the rotunda skylight, letting in the sunshine through glass panes fashioned with the symmetry of a spider's web. 

Central to the rotunda is an Alexander Calder (1898-1976) mobile called Red Lily Pads.  After we saw it, I did some research.  It reminds many of leaves skimming a pond.  Ovoid disks floating parallel to the earth in a way that echoes the unpredictable activity of nature.  What amazingly simple beauty.  We took the elevator to the top ramp then walked slowly down, enjoying the mobile from every level.  Something millions of people from all over the world have done.

So much to be thankful for.  Great architecture and art.  The freedom to visit and enjoy it.  Armchair travel.  Photography.  The seasons.  Some days blessings abound. 

BEING UNDERSTOOD AND VALUED

A Threatening Day

Lately I have had painful thoughts.  Let's say something has happened that is very distressing.  Not just a bad day--something potentially devastating.  A breach of promise or duty, a disloyalty.  If the distress is caused by a family member, a spouse, lover or a partner our minds can race to the worst conclusions--life will never be the same, trust never regained, hurt never healed.  We are not understood or valued.  No apology will be forthcoming. The actions are defended, stonewalled.  Or, maybe, finally, "I'm sorry that I hurt you" rather than "I'm sorry that I wronged you," two very different apologies. 

What can we do in such a situation?  If we are a person of faith, what does God want us to do? If we believe that someone who owes us a duty of loyalty and honesty (as we in turn owe them) has acted in ways that make us worried, anxious, depressed, or sick in heart and body, what do we do?

One helpful idea is to listen to ourselves.  Listening to our instincts is important, especially, I think, when done while asking God for help and guidance.  The more the distressing event is unexpected, the more unprepared we are, the more important to rely upon God and our instincts to guide us.  Our instincts are on our side.

Another idea is to find someone else to listen to us.  Someone in addition to God who can face our fears and misgivings with us and help us realistically assess our perceptions.  A friend, a counselor, a member of the clergy, a physician, a trusted family member.

The best idea seems to be to talk with the person--for better or worse.  This isn't simple or without risk.  It can be an unhappy fearful road.  It can be hard when we have our fears and suspicions confirmed rather than assuaged.  But each of us deserves to know where we stand.  To decide whether to put all our efforts into love of another or faith and trust in another, talk is necessary.  How can we move forward in any direction without the most honest talk possible?  

Writing also helps.  A prayer journal perhaps, or a diary.  Writing helps us know who we are, discover what we need.  It slows us down so that we do not act precipitously. It helps us to not overreact, to be just and reasonable.  Whatever gives us space to think, to pray and to make decisions for the good of ourselves and one another is a good thing.  If we then begin to again feel understood and valued, we can offer thanks to God for helping and guiding us.

Clouds scattered, Blue Sky

SATURDAY AT THE FARMER'S MARKET

We have a wonderful Farmer's Market in Durham, North Carolina. It's in Central Park surrounded by reconverted tobacco warehouses and new condos.  Our small-town southern city is thriving.  We have aromatic food trucks everywhere.

Also, Morehead City where we live part-time and Beaufort-by-the Sea nearby have Saturday markets where I spent this Saturday morning. One vendor stood by jangled piles of jewelry she had brought back from Kenya, some fashioned from noodles that had been spoiled by weevils, now painted gold and silver.  Necklaces were a dollar, bracelets and earrings 25 cents.  Almost everyone left covered in noodles and beads.  The money went straight back to the crafters.

I bet all of us have a Farmer's Market nearby.  Even though the markets are colorful and crowded, they are also havens of respite.  Choosing the right peach or tomato keeps us in the present.  You don't have to buy too much of anything.  An outdoor market is not a place to worry.  It's a neighborly place.  Somehow the supermarket with its fluorescent lighting is not the same. Buying al fresco is like dining al fresco. 

The biggest and best outdoor market near us is the Piedmont Triad Farmer's Market, open year-round selling flowers, fruits, veggies and pork from "happy pigs."  Now that's hard to come by in North Carolina.  The fresh egg dealers even have pictures of their perky hens.  Harriet lays green eggs, Tallulah the speckled brown.

Haven't we all noticed the artistry of the farmer's displays? The jumble of colorful peppers hard and shiny, the textured cauliflowers, the fragile tomatoes.

I talked with a photographer in the Morehead City market.  She had displayed a large close-up picture of augers framed in bleached wood.  You know, those finger-tip cone-shaped swirled shells inhabited by what must be the world's tiniest carnivores.  She said, "No one sees the world the way you do."  What an encouraging thought.  So, when I got home with my treasures, I tried to create my own still-life on my windowsill.  See what you think.  Olive oil, tea kettle, eggplant, a few okra, peppers in the shadows.  What an enjoyable morning.  I wish it for everyone. 

NATURE 1 STRESS 0

Being in nature doesn't solve our problems; but it does make us less stressed about our problems. When Stress and Nature are pitted head-to-head, Nature always wins, hands down.

We have been spending the semester an hour outside New York City and commuting in.  The other day I took this photo of One World Trade Center, a beautiful building.  No nature in sight in this picture, right?  But it's one of the world's greenest buildings and as a beacon is visible for 20 miles.  

View of One World Trade Center

This building is at the epicenter of our nation's remembered stress.  I was thinking about this the other day when we visited the National September 11 Memorial and Museum.  After we visited, I read all about the site at www.911memorial.org:  the sustainable design; the forest of trees; the waterfalls that line the footprints of the Twin Towers, almost an acre in size; the Oculus, a train station designed to look like a dove in flight.  By interacting with nature, the architects have created an oasis of respectful calm where once terror reigned.

WTC Oculus, Waterfalls, Names

On our walk around the area, we paused by hundreds of tulips blooming in front of a waterfront commercial building filled with commuters and shoppers. What a lovely natural environment for stress relief after a commute into the City or long day at work.  There are tables and benches open to everyone, no one was being run off. The waterfront itself is so inviting, filled with grownups and kids enjoying the outdoors.

Brookfield Place, Riverside, NYC

Spending time in a city with so much concrete and bustle, I wanted to know why physiologically being in nature is good for us.  It turns out that being in nature boosts our immune systems.  Like singing and exercise, just being in the natural world produces hormones that reduce stress.  Walking and breathing in fresh air stimulates our circulation.  Flower fragrances calm us.  People find that being in the natural world makes them happier and helps to banish feelings of loneliness or depression.

St. Paul's Chapel Graveyard 

There's a graveyard just next to the 9/11 Memorial.  So fitting. Graveyards abound in almost every old city all over the world.  They too are places of respite.  I read that President George Washington retreated to this Chapel to pray just after his inauguration.  Some of these graves would have been there then.  Don't you also find graveyards to be a calming part of our natural world?  People of all ages were rambling through this graveyard, noting the old stones and the loving remarks carved in them as the living remember the dead. No one looked stressed.  

ADVENTURE THERAPY

My husband and I took a slow journey through Montana and Wyoming.  It was 100% adventure.  Mountains and geysers, steaming vents and mud pots.  Bison everywhere.  The Grand Tetons, Yellowstone and Glacier. We hiked in the snow.  We rafted on the Snake River in Montana and the Flathead in Wyoming.  For a short time, we lived in this other world, the world of the adventurous. 

Rafting on the Snake River

 Geysers in Yellowstone

Although our National Park adventures were years in the planning, adventures don't have to be far from home or cost a lot of money.  Once we got a taste for rafting we located the Nantahala Outdoor Center (noc.com) just a few hours from home.  In summer you can go whitewater rafting on the French Broad and cool off with backwards flops into the water.  So much fun.

Our granddaughter's Scout leader took the troop to a local ropes course for a day of adventure.  The girls were fearless.  They put so much effort into their climbing.

Even closer to home we spend many Saturdays enjoying the alpaca and farm animals at our local Museum of Life and Science.  And the rescue bears and wolves, all well-provided for with large natural habitats. (lifeandscience.org) Doesn't the alpaca look majestic (and just a little silly with that mop of hair on top)?

There's not so much exercise involved in these "watching adventures" but they are still good for the mind and heart.  And in that way these animals are providing both inspiration and therapy.  I know there are controversies surrounding wildlife watching, balancing what is good for the planet, the animal and us humans.  

So many people today seem dedicated to making things better.  One example is the Duke Lemur Center, an 85-acre sanctuary for these rare and endangered prosimian primates (lemur.duke.edu). Doesn't this lemur look totally engaged?  The Lemur Center rotates cage-free time among the animals, giving them the run of the acreage and trees.

Finally, a good old-fashioned treehouse provides adventure for kids and grown-ups alike.  A place to read, hide out, imagine, play games, draw, daydream and line with sleeping bags for a starry night in the woods.   

What adventures are you in the mood for this weekend?  What are your personal favorites? I am so grateful when we can make time for some. 

                                                                                 Nina Naomi

MR. WIGGLES

Mr. Wiggles has a big heart.  He is an 11 lb. Malti-poo who loves people first, other little dogs second, and big dogs third.  You can tell how small he is when you compare him to the fallen leaves in the foreground of the picture.  For his size he is very brave.  He is not afraid of deer.  He will chase them when they come too near the house.  When he meets a large dog on a walk he barks anxiously.  When he meets a dog his size he runs up to sniff.  When he meets a friendly person he flops on his back for a tummy-rub.  In fact, a back flop is Mr. Wiggles' default position.  When in doubt, he seems to think, try for a tummy-rub.

Mr. Wiggles is not too picky or spoiled.  Like cows, sheep and other mammals (but not our old cat), he is willing to eat the same food every day.  A little gravy on top is welcome but not required.  If he was wishing for gravy, he will carry a piece or two of the dry food into the breakfast room and drop it on the rug and study it.  Then he eats it.  Then he goes back to his dish and chows down.

Mr. Wiggles will play hide-and-seek.  He also loves a playground.  He likes to pick our granddaughter up from school and stop there.  He will swing on his own and go down the slide too, if he is held tightly.

Mr. Wiggles at the Playground

His favorite chew toys are his pink bear and his yellow ducky.

Mr. Wiggles and Pink Bear

Mr. Wiggles has a warm red plaid jacket for cold weather.  He has no bad qualities at all.  I have read about therapy dogs and emotional support dogs, how they provide affection and comfort.  Mr. Wiggles definitely fills that role.

I am hoping everyone has such a lovely pet. 

A PLACE TO STOP, THINK, AND WONDER

Do you enjoy visiting a museum? I don't get to do this often, so it becomes a special treat.  On a blustery day in Princeton, NJ where we are staying I walked to the Princeton University Art Museum. I had seen a painting there I wanted to look at longer.  Perhaps you know about the phenomenon called Slow Art.  It doesn't take more time, just slower looking at fewer pieces.  That's what I wanted. 

One thing I have noticed, we never worry in a museum.  We stop, think and wonder.  Negative feelings fall away.  Art is good for the mind.  Wherever we choose to linger--landscapes, medieval iconography, portraits, abstracts--brings its own reverie.  I wanted to spend more time looking at this marvelous self-portrait by Gabriele Munter.

Isn't it arresting? She sits at easel holding her paints in her right hand, yet hardly dressed for painting in her cream-colored garment, delicately balanced hat, and pendant necklace. What was she really wearing while she painted herself I wondered.  Munter was an influential German expressionist painter, born in 1877 and died in 1962.  But like other women artists, she was for a time overlooked. 

The museum has three of her paintings on view.  In this one her lover and fellow artist Wassily Kandinsky is at table with Erma Bossi, another artist.  Not as handsome as the self-portrait, but with good dark outlines and a flatness that makes for a strong composition.

In this painting the colors are even bolder.  Of course I looked Gabriele Munter up when I got home.  Her life is very interesting.   There are beautiful slide shows of her work on YouTube, a few accompanied by music such as a Bach-double violin concerto.  I wish I could reproduce it here. 

On the same visit I spent some time studying another interesting portrait of a woman.  American artist Robert Henri made this painting of Mildred Clarke von Kienbusch in 1914. 

The background and the clothing (except for the ruffle) are very dark, so different from the pale colors of Munger's self-portrait.  But the eyes and the lips are bright.  And of course the splash of color in the flowers she is holding.  Do you wonder if Henri sees his model as luminous but Munger, who paints her own face partially shadowed, does not see herself that way?   That wouldn't be surprising.  We might expect Munger to see herself more as an artist than as a striking woman.  

I was also drawn to this painting called Boy Reading (1955).

The setting seems cluttered yet peaceful, doesn't it? And rather affluent.  There is no chaos. Nice, the idea of a boy being able to read a book in such a place, with nothing unpleasant to interfere.  I looked this artist up too. Fairfield Porter--his work is characterized by interior settings, golden light and intimate glimpses of family.  Certainly this description fits this painting. 

Often on any one visit to a museum we try to see too much.  Then nothing sinks in.  This time the works I looked at slowly seemed to offer so much more.  In what other ways might slow looking work well for us?  In the outdoors certainly. On a walk. In a conversation. Maybe even just thinking, slowing down our thoughts. 

I hope to enjoy the luxury of slow looking at a wonderful museum again sometime soon.

CANDLES AND YOUR BEST BONE CHINA

Every morning I get notifications from Pinterest.  Beautiful projects chosen just for me. But as I scroll through, almost everything I see makes me feel inferior.  Rather than being enthusiastic about all the inspirational ideas, right away I start thinking I can't keep up. (Related Confession:  some cookbooks make me feel the same way.)  Does this ever happen to you?

I have wanted to make gloves and mittens from my old sweaters for ever.  Its such a cool thing to do.  And I LOVE finger-less gloves.  They are perfect for North Carolina where it's not that cold.  You can drive, text. . . .   

But when I looked up DIY gloves from sweaters I immediately felt overwhelmed and guilty.  How many old sweaters haven't I wasted over the years?  Why haven't I made gloves and mittens for everyone in the family? Why haven't I felted my old sweaters and made purses? Are my gifts personal enough?  Is it better to give something handmade than something bought?  Do I spend too much time shopping?

This turned into a larger question: why do I feel guilty?  Then I paused.  How in the world did my mind travel from Pinterest, a really enjoyable and essentially useful website, to questions about my fundamental nature?

To redirect my mind I began gathering my stash of bone china cups.  I scour thrift and consignment shops for them.  A bone china cup and saucer of the most exquisite and delicate beauty costs only about $6.  I got out my supplies.  Time to make candles!  

I wanted to try putting sea glass into a homemade candle.  My niece lives in Atlantic Highlands, NJ, a small Victorian town overlooking New York Bay where tumbled glass from New York City washes up on the New Jersey shore.  She gathers it when she has time.  When we are in New Jersey I do too. 

Sea Glass from Lower New York Bay

The recipe for container candles is easy and there are instructions on-line.  Besides the containers you need a double boiler.  Then wax, dye and fragrance oil.  So far I have used lavender, vanilla, or cedar for a holiday smell.  Plus pre-tabbed wicks, a thermometer, stearic acid,  and Popsicle sticks to hold the wicks in place, all from a craft store.  After the wax is at 170 degree and melted, add the stearic acid, the fragrance, and the dye.  While it melts stick the wicks in the containers.  Its a bit tricky to get the wicks to stay centered. You want the ones that self-stick.  If they move, your candle burns a tad off-center--not a catastrophe.   

My first batch of candles

The addition of sea glass turned out pretty well.  I waited until the wax had partially hardened to tuck the pieces of glass in. 

Bone china has such a warm translucent quality, it is the perfect receptacle for the flame.  Once the candle has burned down, a thorough cleaning with boiling water readies the teacup for a hot drink.  Or a refill with more candle wax, which I am glad to do.  Maybe I haven't (yet) made gloves and hats and purses for everyone in the family, but I have made beautiful candles.  Some to use, some to give away. One thing at a time. That's enough for now.

A CHORE-FREE ZONE

Creating a chore-free zone--or inhabiting one--is not my idea.  A UK magazine I enjoy (www.thesimplethings.com)  has a monthly series on what makes a house a home.  One month the feature was about the joy of a garden shed.  The writer said that because the shed is isolated from the rest of the house it becomes a chore-free zone.  She said, "Time spent in the shed never feels wasted." Now I don't have a garden shed, but the idea of a chore-free zone where I could putter, day-dream, let the mess accumulate, and do only those tasks that absorb and give pleasure spoke to me straight off.  One Saturday I set out to create one.  

First I thought I would take a walk. Then I might get some ideas. I set out for the mossy path in our woods.  

I might as well take my rake, I decided.  There were sure to be leaves to rake off the moss and a few border stones to replace.  I walked and raked and neatened the path for almost an hour before I realized I better turn around and head back if I was ever to create a chore-free zone. 

When I got home I made a cup of tea and took it into the storage room off our kitchen.  This would be a quiet place where I could think about a chore-free zone.  The grandchildren love the storage room.  It is cluttered with boxes, old photos, toys and games, trophies from TaeKwonDo,  school projects, a vintage trunk filled with who knows what, spare chairs. . . in all a fine place to play or poke around. The Christmas decorations were already put back neatly on the highest shelves, but I couldn't resist straightening a stack of heavy old albums.  I opened the one that holds family photos of the farm-house-next-to-the-church-next-to-the-cemetary where we lived when our children were toddlers.  What memories! Soon almost another hour had gone by and I was no closer to my goal of a chore-free-zone. 

Maybe outdoors was a better place to think after all.  I may not have a shed but I have a potting bench.  I  rearranged the sea shells, watered everything, set out a flat of pansies.  The time flew by.  

Still without a chore-free zone idea and now quite dirty. I might as well check on my hanging garden.  Its just some skinny old dead cedar trunks found lying about in the woods that I have propped onto a few nails in larger shade trees.  A good wind always sends something to the ground.  But it was all intact.

Might as well take a rest on a chaise lounge.  A friend helped us create an outdoor room on some decking.  The morning was gone and I had thoroughly enjoyed it.  I began wondering whether I didn't have enough chore-free zones already.