Apron Strings and Old Magic

The next morning Duchess carefully folded away her beloved jewel toned caftans. She had work to do, work that called for jeans. She had a collection of multi colored tunics that would still let her feel like a free spirit. And of course, the jewellery would stay. She slipped on several chunky gold and turquoise pieces.

She wore caftans and tunics like postcards from her higher self. They sang out—she was loud and loving, maybe even a little offbeat

Her aura always arrived a breath ahead of her, giving the air a moment to shift.

She tied her long wavy hair up with a bright pink scarf and headed to the kitchen.

She hadn't meant to explore, she was planning on making muffins. But she had followed a draft, a flicker of movement at the edge of her vision, a slight whisper. She was led her from room to room. Doors that weren't there yesterday were open and the walls quietly vibrated. The House wanted her to go places.

This place was huge. She knew it had been a Bed and Breakfast, the realtor had advised her, to make sure she knew what she was getting into. But of course she didn't, not really.

Everywhere she moved, sunlight followed her, gold on the staircase, pale green in the sunroom, amber slanting through stained glass and pooling on the floor like honey.

Bedrooms waited to be found, some with fireplaces. All with balconies and lake views.

Wyndy had perfected that talent over decades.

Ornate oak doors opened to a library. She gasped as she glimpsed the heavy double French doors leading out to the verandah to drink in the lake.

The main floor held a large dining room, and two large gathering areas, both with fire places. She roamed until time slipped sideways.

When she reached her glass-enclosed sunroom, already her favourite, Wyndy had moved a comfortable burgundy leather recliner closer to the balcony, a multi colored blanket draped over it. That was where she found Misty, curled up, sleeping. She picked up Misty, settled her back down on her lap and faced the lake.

Every room filled her with delight, as she imagined her Spa and Retreat and how she could pull everything together. Her stomach knotted with anxiety. Or maybe it was hunger, time to find that kitchen.

It was as large as she remembered. Cozy enough for a family, large and functional enough for a Bed and Breakfast. The air was warm and vanilla scented. A ceramic bowl, wooden spoon and measuring cups sat out on the counter, as if someone had just stepped away. She checked behind her, not knowing what she was searching for. The kitchen lights flickered off and on.

"Okay, Wyndy," She shook her head.

She was too hungry to wait for muffins and had a lot of unpacking to do. Toast and coffee would have to do. The tour had been enchanting, just longer than expected. There was so much more yet to unfold. Wyndy would save the rest for later.

She grabbed the apron Wyndy had draped on the counter to return it to a drawer and found her cookbook open to Maple Walnut Muffins. She grinned. Wyndy was going to take some getting used to.