LAND OF ENCHANTMENT
If a story were to be written about Meg Ridley’s life, the subject or topic would be “unrest.” Sad but true. Back at her family of origin’s home, every November first Meg woke up to find Halloween pumpkins smashed on their front porch.
The Ridley’s house had a tiny yard, so often Meg played in the street or on the sidewalks. She grew up as a tomboy. It seemed she had skinned knees every day of every summer. The cement in the schoolyard sure had a way to make skin bleed.
Meg liked taking walks in her neighborhood or even into other neighborhoods. She enjoyed looking at architectural styles of homes. Even at a young age, Meg knew she loved the colonial and salt box styles.
As Meg grew into a woman, she left her tomboy ways behind. She determined she would go to school to become an architect. In college, she studied for her architectural degree as planned. In her free time, she grew interested in interior decorating. The “farmhouse” style piqued her interest. She read up on that style anywhere she could.
All this while, Meg embraced the minimalism concept and pared down her possessions until she had only what she could use. She did buy a few decorative items, and her home invited any visitors with warmth.
Meg graduated from college and set her sights on becoming an independent architect. Her flat was small but ideal for Meg. Her living room held her drafting board, her laptop, a sofa and a chair, and that was all. But Meg loved it. However…
Maybe it was time to buy a home. She didn’t care where she ended up, so she took her time and looked at real estate websites. Endlessly.
One day it happened. The time when she knew she had found her new home. It was almost a miracle. But then again—Meg had always been decisive. Everything she decided had come to pass. This house would likely follow suit.
Meg bought a house in the Southwest, and fortunately the furnishings were available for sale. She seized them gratefully. It’s like the home was made for her.
When it was time to leave her apartment, she rejected her brother’s offer of driving south with her. Instead, she rented a large minivan. Off she drove to the Land of Enchantment.
Meg loved her new home. She especially enjoyed spending time in her spacious dining room. At the blonde wood table set on a beautiful oriental rug, she wrote her shopping lists. She’d look around at a few copper pieces in the built-in bookcase and the many green plants she’d bought. This place was truly a gift.
Meg started a new habit: she never wore shoes inside. The feeling of the smooth, polished wooden floor under her bare feet pleased her to no end.
Taking photos of everything was another new hobby for Meg. When she finally had her fill of taking inside photos, she drove through the Southwest on weekends. Her beloved camera was with her at all times.
In this place, Meg had everything she’d always loved: architecture and the house furnishing style of farmhouse. A feeling of peace completed the picture.
One day an old friend called her and asked if she was happy. “Definitely,” Meg answered. “Since I followed my dreams, it’s not possible to be unhappy.”
Meg became the inspiration for many women and men. I’ve joined their ranks, too.