What a cozy little day I’ve had. The rain didn’t arrive till the afternoon, and I had my house presentably clean by then so I was able to stay curled up and enjoy it from the warmth of my couch. It’s so nice to be snug at home, free of responsibilities and places to be. I mean, apart from still needing an oil change. Who in their right mind wants to drive to West Knoxville in the rain on a Saturday? For that matter, who wants to drive there on a sunny Wednesday? Not this girl. If you do, see me for keys. Maggie’s fun to drive; I’m just lazy.

Lonesome Dove and Nilla wafers are much more my speed for dreary February Saturdays. I also had meatballs marinating in the crockpot and I threw together my famous oatmeal casserole that I haven’t made in over five years. It smelled so delectable baking. Cinnamon must be one of the most comforting scents known to man.

You ever know somebody really well in a specific capacity, and then you see them somewhere out of the normal and it’s like seeing a whole new person? For instance, one of your closest coworkers and then you unexpectedly run into them at Dollywood in shorts and sandals and wiping their child’s face free of ice cream and it’s this whole other persona you weren’t even aware existed? Like, you didn’t even know they owned shorts? Or you and your friend have always gone to restaurants together and had a big time, but then you invite them over for supper in your home and the whole atmosphere is different? Isn’t that the kookiest thing? I have people in my life I would definitely call on if the chips were down but that have never visited my home, and I have never been in theirs. Can you truly know someone without seeing where and how they live? I think so, if they’re open about their life, but I also believe you get a much clearer idea after seeing them in their natural habitat. It’s hard to hide the kind of person you are in your own home. Especially if you’re caught unawares. You catch me with dirty dishes in the sink, you’ve embarrassed me the equivalent of catching an old farmer without his pocketknife. (For those of you not in the know, old farmers will carry their pocketknives into the funeral home. So if you catch one without it, they’re basically nekkid.) I think it’s good to be surprised by people you love. I wouldn’t want an acquaintance dropping in on me and catching me looking less than my best, but close friends are always welcome. Especially in times of crisis. It’s so heartwarming to be in the presence of a well loved and cared-for home when you feel like your world has shattered. And your friend putters around, baking cupcakes and making you coffee or tea and occasionally giving you a reassuring hug. You don’t get the same sense of well-being in a magazine showplace home with purposely purchased knickknacks from the Hobby Lobby. Give me junk collected from vacation travels and antique stores any time. Give me stained recipes hanging from tattered cookbooks and magazines piled way out of a basket intended for blankets. Give me dustbunnies behind the refrigerator and a wilted plant in the windowsill over aesthetically pleasing white shiplap walls and plastic succulents. Give me a plain ol’ vanilla stubby candle and not a pristine “pressed linen” Pottery Barn creation in a stained glass jar, a replica of the windows at the Vatican. Give me ratty sweatpants and hair in a knot over Gucci accessories and contoured makeup.

How did I get here? Anyway. I’m looking forward to another day like today tomorrow, and I hope you all have a wonderful one, as well. Give yourself some time to relax, and not rush to the next thing, and carve some time out just for YOU. Turn off your phone if you have to. Go hug a tree. Sit in the floor. Work a puzzle. Cook something. Bring it to me. Everybody’s happy! But seriously. You only get one life. You only get one Sunday, February 11th, 2024. Spend it wisely. Make sure those you love know it, beyond a shadow of a doubt. Use the good lotion and eat all the butter. You’re not promised Monday.

Feeling nostalgic in rainy Appalachia,

~Amy