A FEELING OF SPACIOUSNESS THAT IS SIMPLY DELICIOUS!

So the Editor has this "big comfy chair" (as he likes to call it) that we both sit in together. We spend several hours sitting in the BCC reading. Sometimes I cross stitch while he reads but most of the time I read too. Hours go by without either one of us saying much except for the occasional quote one of us will read from our respective books. It is definitely one of my favorite things to do with The Editor. I haven't been able to put my finger on exactly how to explain the feeling of peacefulness that comes over me when we are cuddled up together in this chair. That is.....until last night. As I was reading my current book, I came across exactly how BCC time makes me feel . It also explains how I feel when I'm cross stitching. "Island Magic" by Elizabeth Goudge was first published in 1934. I haven't put any quotes from it on my blog yet because the book is so good I would pretty much have to just quote all of it. Every sentence is so beautifully written. They just don't write like this anymore and I highly recommend reading all of Elizabeth Goudge's books. Anyway, here is the excerpt from the book – I've condensed it a bit.

Rachelle was sewing. She had abandoned her darning and was stitching at a lovely piece of embroidery, a strip of white satin with blue cornflowers and yellow poppies on it. She had not the slightest hope of ever finishing it, but just now and then she worked at it for a few moments because of the enjoyment that it gave her. Somehow the creation of a thing that was intended simply to be beautiful and nothing else gave her a feeling of spaciousness that was simply delicious.
"Why?" she asked Andre.
Andre, who was reading, removed his spectacles and thought about it.
"Because a thing that has no practical value but exists simply to be beautiful, a picture or a symphony, or yellow poppies enriching white satin, is a vision of reality. A thing that's intended to be useful ties down your spirit to mundane things, but a thing that is simply beautiful opens a window and lets you go free – that's why you feel spacious.
Rachelle looked at Andre. His eyes had dropped to his book again and his face looked alight. He hardly ever had time to read and she was sorry, for a book was to him what her embroidery was to her.
They sat together quietly, their bodies at peace, their spirits voyaging, their hearts attentive to and conscious of each other, while the clock ticked as though each little soft sound was a tap closing more and more firmly the door that shut out the noisy world.

That's how the big comfy chair at The Editor's house makes me feel.