Jilly Brandon

She looks out through the sliding glass window to the almost frozen lake beyond. It is the winter time . She is cozied up indoors, welcoming the imminent heat from the furnace in the basement beneath where she sits.

The gentle hum begins and it fills her with satisfaction and gratitude for the comfort of the welcoming warmth that envelops the heart and soul .

There are two cats keeping her company, and even know these two young guys are not related their coloring and fur make it seem so . As typical cats do, they like to lounge all day in whatever stream of sunlight they can find, outstretched licking their paws and yawning, because their days after all, are quite exhausting.

Nocturnal at heart, the idea of a night hunt is always a possibility, they are predators by nature.

When she is allowed close enough, they give her permission to pet them, creating a static electricity which makes them twitch their heads back and forth, and then a low satisfactory purr emerges.

She smiles. The cat must come to you, you cannot go to the cat. It is in their space , and by their choice if they choose to befriend you. You cannot rush this interchange. Such is the way with cats. Dogs are a different story entirely . Dogs love to invade your space, and can’t wait to be with their people, cats need to study a person for a bit, then will decide if the person is worthy. It’s on their terms, make no mistake about that.

This cottage/house is comfortable and filled with love and memories, and every time she enters from the outdoors, the scent of previous wood fires envelop her senses. She takes a deep breath . This smell will continually evoke the welcome embrace of her childhood home with the calm of being in a place of peace and gentle solitude surrounding her.

Cradling a cup of morning coffee with a spot of creamer, she settles into the big tan leather chair in the living room.

It is still dark outdoors, but the cats have decided to give chase to one another . Up over chair, and then sofa, and skidding up the edge of the gentle patterned area rug on the soft pine planked wooden floor. Loudly purring, and meowing, they are having fun, but also come nose to pink nose, whiskers moving all about, challenging one another as to who will be top cat.

The first cat that lived in the house is the cat in charge. The young male cat that has been adopted from the wild outdoors needs to be taught his place. It is the way of things. New cat needs to learn respect, and so it is the dance and teaching the older male cat will teach, because he will not be de-throned. He is king of this jungle.

Cats are mini lions . They choose to let us live with them, not the other way around.

It is the beginning of a brand new year and when she arrived here it was in a great fog.

The fog was not lifting as she set out on the crunchy and saturated gravel road. There was a new adventure ahead of her. Christmas festivities had passed, and she was moving forward to the next place where she was destined to be.

It was an unseasonably warm couple of days, and the confused earth doesn’t know if it was the Spring thaw, late fall, and where was old man winter hiding? Not that she minded this comfortable temperature, but the fog was unsettling to her mind.

She sat at the knotty pine dining table, and looked out to the lake beyond. It might have been more frozen by now, but the mild weather has kept it open. When she poked her head out the sliding door, the cat darted out. He wanted to sniff the air too it seemed. He had been plotting his opportunity to hasten a quick escape, and he felt pride that he had out maneuvered her.

She moved slowly towards him, and of course he scampered off. So this is how it’s going to be. He wants to play games. She is familiar with the way of cats. She will act like she doesn’t care.. and he will come back to her .

He jumped down under the deck to investigate . She crept down the back steps, and reached down. They were eye to eye. It is the distraction and then the gentle capture. She snuggled him close to her, and began petting him . He can’t resist . His motor starts humming. Score one for the human .

Such an idyllic setting . I don’t know quite what it is about looking out towards a lake, that brings tranquility, but it does.

I think of this house as a cottage and a home because it evokes all the good feels of both these entities. The perfect marriage in my mind if weekend and week days all rolled into one. What a concept .

There is a sense of wonder of exploring her new domain, and settling in to fresh surroundings to her. There is a sense of happy that spills out, as she wonders what these next few winter months will bring.

She is coming alongside a young at heart woman of 94 years. She can scarcely believe this is truly her age. This woman is inspiring to her . She is a woman of faith, and she exudes joy and contentment. She loves to do for others, to cook, to provide, and visit and comfort people, sometimes delivering a rotisserie chicken or two .

Filled with hospitality, and spunk. She is a delightful combination of determination, warmth, and deep gratitude. She is learning so much from her.

Her apartment is kept so organized, and when she greets her in the morning she knows that she has been up, fixed her poached egg on toast, and is ready for what the day ahead has in store. The two have a visit, and plan the events of the day.

Grace is game for a walk . Dressed in her red parka, edged with white fur trim, red knit hat and a Scottish tartan wool scarf she is ready to be on the move . The walker is retrieved from the space beside the car, and off they go.

Practical boots are a must, and Grace’s boots are strapped with extra cleats on the bottom for added traction, and non slipping capability .

She and Grace take in the day . It is good to keep moving, and the intake of cold air on the lungs is rejuvenating to both she and Grace.

Grace is an excellent conversationalist. She is ever interested in people and things going on around her wanted to chat about experiences, and share chatter about people they both know.

Often when she goes over for a visit there is something cooking on the stove, and enticing scents fill her nose . She can tell that Grace is very at home in her kitchen and enjoys making and baking.

She has asked Grace if she will care to share her recipes, but she giggles shyly and responds with,

” oh I don’t know . They are not written down ”

One might think that Grace is being elusive, but she realizes that these recipes come from deep inside her, and have been tried, and are truly created with love and care. Grace creates by taste.

Grace brought her over a creamy corn chowder one lunchtime, topped with shredded bits of cheddar, followed the next day by a sumptuous chicken noodle that was so creamy and satisfying.

She wonders. If food and dishes are created with love, goes that extra ingredient make all the difference?

It seems to her that the extra sprinkle of love whether measured, or done by taste is the extra element that coins the phrase, ” comfort food.”

She knows what her comfort food choices are. Everybody has their go to delicacies, the things they reach for when the day has been hard, a person has treated one with disdain or indifference, grabbing the comfort food of choice, always soothes the ache and pain.. if only just for the moment.

There are horses to greet along the road . They are curious about the walkers. Their ears twitch and they saunter towards the fence curious as to who these two are that pass by. Their thick winter coats keeping them warm, they are not bothered by drops in temperature. Their bodies prepare them .

The snow storm warning has gone out, and the trip to town has happened. It made sense for she and Grace to gather groceries, go to the bank, top the car up with gas, and to take the time to visit a cousin that has had some medical issues that has kept him in his home. Grace wants to make the effort to pay he and his wife a visit, and so they do .

It’s always worth the effort.

They are prepared. The snow that is promised is starting to fall gently. All is quiet . Her evergreen candle burns brightly from the stone hearth of the fireplace.

The incredible whiteness of the outdoors is breathtaking. “All is calm and all is bright . “