Solitary Satisfaction

I think I finally found my spot. It’s a shade under a small tree in our front lawn. It’s nothing much, but it’ll have to do.

Even before we came here I was already looking forward to finding a nice place where I can go to everyday; somewhere I can read, or write or maybe just think. I was hoping that it would be somewhere on a beach maybe, a nice park, or perhaps I can set up a nice table in front of the window of our would be house, the one with the best view of our neighborhood. Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out the way I expected them to be. It’s too hot to go to the beaches, and parks are not close enough to go to especially when you don’t have a car like me. As for the window, we found a nice little house that’s absolutely perfect except that windows are placed too high up;l and even if they weren’t there isn’t much of a view to see.

Of course you might be wondering what it is with me and finding a spot. The earlier parts of my childhood we lived at my grandma’s house which had a backyard that had a small tree in the middle. It was just a regular Alatiris tree, high enough for a six year old to climb on or play around at. It was the occasional venues of my tea parties with my stuffed dolls and imaginary friends. Even though I couldn’t read yet, I was already fascinated with story books back then and it was there were I pretended to read my books out loud, knowing the story by heart as read to me by mom at night. And where I would normally run to when playmates weren’t being nice to me. As I think about it now, it was the perfect place for me. An apartment building was eventually built on the backyard for practical reasons (extra source of income) and we moved to a compound where most of my dad’s side of the family lived. Our apartment was in between two others, and behind three other apartments. We did have a big window but since we were at the back, all you could see was the big gray backside wall of the apartment in front of us.

A few years, and a fire incident later, we moved back into our old house. The big house was already remodeled to accompany a very big nuclear family. I did find a nice spot, which was on the window pane of the room upstairs. The breeze was great up there and I could see as far as the end of our street, much the same as on top of my childhood tree. But I couldn’t really sit so long on the narrow window, as it hurts my butt; and really relaxing isn’t an option since concentration is necessary so as to avoid falling two stories down.

By then I was already in college, then started working, and eventually married JG. So there wasn’t really any more time to sit around and relax. But now that I am but a humble stay-at-home wife, I have nothing but. Except for maintaining the house, I don’t have much of a hobby. Even with 4000 channels to choose from via satellite TV, anyone would want to go outside once in a while. And as I wrote in the beginning, my ideal places are not that easy to go to.

Maybe in a few years when I am more familiar with Tripoli, I can go out, broaden my horizon, and find some other place where I can sit and relax. Some place like our backyard when I was little that can offer me some solitary satisfaction. Until then my little shade under the tree in my front yard is fine for me. Again it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do.

 

My little spot
My little spot
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