A Rare and Unrivaled Indulgence

I write this from my bedroom as I lounge on the bed.  The window is open, so a chilly breeze is floating around.  Men with power tools are tearing our living room apart, so I am banished to the bedroom for the day-but I don't mind at all.  In fact, I'm loving every minute of this banishment.  It is a gray, gloomy day, the kind of day that makes you just want to stay inside.  I feel like a traveler, spending the day in a motel room.  I don't think I've ever spent more than 10 minutes in our bedroom during daylight hours.  It's a nice room . . . minimally furnished, but nice.  This room really is just a room for the bed: there is little else here: a globe, a clock, and some books.  (Among them, a biography of Julia Child, who built an empire out of what started as a hobby for her-remarkable when you think about it.)  I'm enjoying spending the day in a small room with an open window and an open book.