Seven years ago we bought a piece of land because it was in the town we love and had some attributes that were hard to come by – no wetlands (which means no hassles with the conservation commission), 900 acres of conservation land and a great trail system next door, and in an established neighborhood of people of various ages. We hired an architect, but, honestly, he dropped the ball, and most of the design is mine. 

The entire house is designed around my office. Am I lucky, or what? We positioned the house so that I could watch for the school bus in the afternoon, but the view really is all about the meadow across the street. I have a small porch, wired for my laptop. In my fantasy life, I sit out there, with a glass of lemonade and write.

In reality, wasps have found the decking to be a perfect environment and I battle them all summer. This time of year there are no stinging insects, but it is too cold to enjoy. 

My dog, Lily, loves the porch. It has a great view of the evil UPS trucks that she is vigilant in defending our house against. Lately, there have been sunny days when it’s warm enough for her to curl up on her bed out there, but most days, it’s way too frigid. We have a routine. I’ll be working at my computer. She’ll come over and nudge me so that I can’t type. I say, “it’s too cold.” She pesters me until I get up and let her out. A blast of 20 degree cold air comes into my office. She circles the porch once, then comes back in. I say, “I told you so.” We are both ready for spring.