Somewhere near the start of a short story this morning was a passage: "It wasn't envy, but (she) missed what could have been."
That's what I feel when I hear of my friends traveling. When we lived in Japan, we worked crazy hours; we worked during the booming 80's up until the very start of the 90's recession, so overtime was automatic and unquestioned. In return, we got two weeks of holiday to almost anywhere our little hearts desired, with comparatively little financial restrictions. Compared to now.
Now we live in Nelson, and people from around the world and from all over New Zealand envy us. And this place is pretty darned near Paradise with its weather and scenery. But it's too easy to forget that when I wallow in my bookshop-, stone-architecture- and history-envy.
My stash room is the only room in the house that looks out to our garden. It makes me want to make the garden beautiful. Which my neighbors would appreciate, no doubt. OK, back to the stash room today.