All posts by PS MacMurray

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About PS MacMurray

Paschal'Simon MacMurray, the scribe, specializes in providing a no nonsense Facebook and Blog presence for small business owners who want quality without breaking the bank. PS MacMurray, the artisan, creates art on a whim using fabric, paper, beads, twine and wire.

The Morning Room

In The Moment, , , , , ,

“I told you. I told you right from the start. I’d always find a haven for my heart. A haven for my heart, a refuge for my soul…”

These song lyrics rest in the back of my mind, though I forget the author or album. Something Celtic. Something beautiful and moving. It reminds me of a place and time, when my Vermont life began. Long before I knew it would, indeed, become my life.

My bedroom upstairs in Stowe Hollow was my haven of peace and light. It was my refuge. I vacationed there a few years after mom passed. Settling in there felt like I could disappear from my worldly life and rest in that innocent place forever. It was my right place. It had called me to itself. I slept better there, and waking up was filled with the promise of a long day for disappearing on the road, in a book, in the clearing up at Trapps, in the solitude and beauty of the concert field with only the hawks and ravens to speak to me.

Abundant Simple Living

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Memories of childhood vacations.

The Grand Motor Inn. The Pinnacle. The Golden Eagle. The ritual of arriving in Vermont was pure bliss. We stopped at the IGA for provisions. Those huge, delicious sandwiches became the most delightful first meal of vacation time. It seemed like the days ahead could possibly stretch into eternity. There were always toys to grab as well, or beach balls to play with in the pool.

The kitchenette became the gathering place of arrivals and of our evening meals and midnight snacks. All we needed fit right there. All that was delightful and fresh and new as though we could make an entire, abundant and rich buffet come out of that tiny space. Everything tasted better. And the cleaning up after provided a heartwarming family vignette, unlike anything
experienced in our daily life at home.

Chat and laughter. A sense of easy friendship, safety, lightheartedness. Never to be forgotten. A gift. All that is left. And it’s enough. And I live here now.