WFH

I first worked from home in the 1970s on Fridays. It gave me the chance to do in-depth projects without interruptions. I did in half a day what might have taken several if I'd stayed in the office. It also gave me the chance to do the laundry and a few weekend chores leaving me Saturday and Sunday free.

 My boss once asked "How do I know you are really working?"

My secretary, who was with us, replied, "Because she bring in tons of stuff for me to do on Monday."

I loved my condo, every bit from the entrance's red carpet to the garbage bin out back . It was the first place I owned on my own. I loved my bay windows in the kitchen and my bedroom and the nook where I set up in my office.

What was wonderful when we had a snow storm and I could huddle down. Selling it was sad but it paid for my European future.

After I retired, I started a credit union newsletter for Canadian executives. Forty-eight weeks, I produced between 30-50 articles all produced from home. I so preferred working from home in Southern France. My desk looked out at the street where I could hear the sounds of life.

I called it my Nest, a fourth floor tiny loft, once an attic in a 400-year old building. The photo is the view from desk where I produced some of my first published novel. The studio was only 18 sq. meters. but I felt joyous being there. I loved everything about it and still do. I now use it as a guest room.

Where I live now is two doors down from the Nest. It's also a renovated 400-year old building which is better suited to my husband and me. The Nest would have been too crowded. Again, I feel joyous being there. I love our art, the memories we made furnishing it and the life we are building together.

Although I enjoy going out and I do miss things because of the lockdown like the marché and café sitting, going to others' homes, I don't mind being indoors. We recently had several days of pounding rain. The music of the rain just added to the joy of being home.

My husband and I are professional writers. We do spend time sitting at our computers pounding out words. My work area is a few feet away from him in what double as the "Snore Room" where I escape some nights. We both have deadlines. We share our work with the other.

My love of being at home goes back to my childhood. I enjoyed school, but I also loved being at home. I had so many things I wanted to do and I hated if forced into some stupid after school activity, I would miss out on my imaginary world. I should say we lived on 14-acres of land with a 35-pine grove in front of the house, two huge rocks that would become anything from Greek temples to western badlands and sometimes mansions in which to have afternoon tea. It was the stage for my hopes, dreams, adventures.

Yes, I like visiting friends. I love how we've traveled around Europe, to Canada to the U.S.

I might not be as happy in lockdown if I had three fighting siblings needing on-line lessons. If my husband was abusive it would be different. If I were worried about paying for food and rent it would be different.

It is none of those things and I know how lucky I am.

Thus unlike for many the lockdown has not been a hardship for me. It has been a gift.