An offer came today, a free subscription to New England Home. A few years back I read magazines like this religiously, poring over the ideas in decorating, planning the addition of a family room, new kitchen, second bath, laundry room and larger master bedroom. So close within our grasp I had the Spanish tiles picked out, the room layout in a design that builders could not build from as a blueprint, but clear in my own mind as far as where the couches sat. All up in smoke with a series of sad events, and now, no longer even allowed as a dream. I cannot even leaf through the book without a twinge of want.
Prior to these there’d been decades of Vogue, Good Housekeeping, Cosmopolitan. All gone with time that changes me as well as the content of their pages.
Now, I stay with Writer’s Digest. And Readers Digest for the bathroom bookstand. That was tradition in our home. The endurance of need over want.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology