Description

Morning
We awake to the wind howling in the old fire place—knocking the doors upstairs to and fro, the whisper of air seeping into the room. It is very, very dark. The 12 foot wooden window shudders hardly need to be closed, for sunlight before 8 o’clock on a January morning is improbable. The heaters hum. Rubbing the sleep from our eyes, we stumble in the darkness for the door. Cold. We are quickly reminded where we live. No amount of space heaters and bambinos are going to heat the massive and faded elegance of a 293 year old manor home full of imperial halls and majestic windows. It is on with the slippers and to the servery for coffee. The chill is overwhelming. A peek outside through the servery door reveals a wet wind twirling through what would have been the stables; ideal for deliveries for Duchess Anne’s stately home. The first several drops of coffee make a sharp “ping” noise before giving in to the impression of a splashing puddle; the piping hot chocolate-coloured liquid will surely help avert the chill of a brisk morning. Looking out the windows, sagging glass distorts the images of fresh rain on the ground, magpies fluttering in the trees and the feathery clouds hastily cruising beyond our ken. Walking across the long marble hallway with a full cup of coffee, opening ten-foot doors—two doors for each room—proves rejuvenating; a new day is upon us.