The first time I met Tom’s Dad he asked me a very thoughtful question about museums while we ate dinner. I was completing my post-graduate diploma in Museum Studies at the time and had no idea what my thoughts on this subject were, having never properly considered them.
I wasn’t used to such conversation about ideas at the dinner table. As I got to know Tom’s parents more, Tom’s Dad (who did some work for the Tenancy Tribunal) would often pose hypothetical situations to us both after dinner and we would discuss what we thought the outcome should be. It was like playing lawyer, with a competitive element and we were almost always wrong despite our utmost belief in what we thought was the right decision.
Out of these discussions, or perhaps out of the time that Tom and I took our own life-sucking landlord to the Tenancy Tribunal, I came to learn the phrase ‘quite enjoyment.’ It essentially – from my sketchy recall of it – means that people have the right to quietly enjoy the dwelling they rent without undue interruption from the landlord.
Although we now own our own home, this weekend has truely been one of quiet enjoyment.
Tom and I went to Cafe Mirabelle in Carterton for lunch yesterday where I ate the world’s best ever spinach and feta quiche. Tom read comics on his iPad, I made craft and finished reading Mr Pip a book that was truely a great story and that I absolutely loved.
Today Tom has gone to work and the weather has turned autumnal. Growing up in Southland, I’m quite partial to a cold day because it means fires on, laying about reading (I read the latest issue of Life and Leisure) and feeling half sleepy and satisfied while hand sewing and pinning more craft.
I have vacuumed, our washing is done and the shirts on the drying rack combined with the scented candle I’m burning are making our lounge smell fresh and clean. There hasn’t been anything particularly stunning or eventful about this weekend – it’s just quite been quietly satisfying in a very ordinary way.