It's a dreary day outside. We might even be getting snow later, the first we've seen it since we moved here over a year ago. It won't stick; it's too warm out, even though it feels damp and cold inside.
Football games await. We're all working on computers, stopping periodically to check in with each other, tease a little, give a hug, lend an ear. We all have tomorrow off, which will probably be more of the same. It's the last semester of high school for the twins. Next year they'll be in college. That will make 2 college graduates (1 now married), 1 college senior, 2 college freshmen, and 1 high school sophomore. And only 1 of those will be at home. Hmm.
When we bought Blackwater, we were thrilled to be increasing our living space, both indoor and out. Although it's taken this long to even be close to selling our last home, we still have big plans for this property. But, my husband teases, common wisdom would say it's too big for us.
Well, it's not.
We all know the rule: physical property expands to fill available space. That's already begun.
Plus I share feelings with Dame Agatha Christie: I don't want a small house. They're harder to clean, because you keep bumping into things. I want space.
I want rooms that are just for books -- and for housing guests.
I want a room I can move Christmas decorations into without having to climb attic steps. When the season comes, I'll just slide boxes out.
I want multiple rooms to house kids, relatives, guests, all the people we couldn't have over at the smaller house when the kids were growing up.
I want rooms to put desks in. I love desks. In fact, a neighbor had one out by the side of the road for pick-up, and let me take it when I asked. I refinished it and put it in my son's room (the one at college; he was less than thrilled).
I want rooms to wander in and out of. I want to be able to change my surroundings to suit my task, or to inspire me when I write. My husband already has 3 -- count 'em 3! -- locations for his various computers in the house. I work in the office or the kitchen mainly, but I've also gone downstairs, or our bedroom, or even to that desk in our son's room for a change of atmosphere.
Frankly, I would love even more room -- more acreage, more rooms here in the house. Not so much for luxury -- I doubt we'll ever have the kind of luxury home some people have, but just for the space, the variety, the charm that many rooms allow.
My mother used to tell me about when they bought the 96-acre farm the year before I was born. She told me how she went out to the yard and stood there, just feeling all that space around her, knowing it was theirs. I admit to wanting our own land, our plantation, our Ponderosa, our kingdom. I want that connection. I want those roots. I want to make it mine. (okay, more correctly, ours). It's a desire I don't think will ever go away.
Are we at the beginning of the empty nest? Maybe, but it doesn't mean we'll be finding a smaller nest any time soon. Way too much to do yet.
Football games await. We're all working on computers, stopping periodically to check in with each other, tease a little, give a hug, lend an ear. We all have tomorrow off, which will probably be more of the same. It's the last semester of high school for the twins. Next year they'll be in college. That will make 2 college graduates (1 now married), 1 college senior, 2 college freshmen, and 1 high school sophomore. And only 1 of those will be at home. Hmm.
When we bought Blackwater, we were thrilled to be increasing our living space, both indoor and out. Although it's taken this long to even be close to selling our last home, we still have big plans for this property. But, my husband teases, common wisdom would say it's too big for us.
Well, it's not.
We all know the rule: physical property expands to fill available space. That's already begun.
Plus I share feelings with Dame Agatha Christie: I don't want a small house. They're harder to clean, because you keep bumping into things. I want space.
I want rooms that are just for books -- and for housing guests.
I want a room I can move Christmas decorations into without having to climb attic steps. When the season comes, I'll just slide boxes out.
I want multiple rooms to house kids, relatives, guests, all the people we couldn't have over at the smaller house when the kids were growing up.
I want rooms to put desks in. I love desks. In fact, a neighbor had one out by the side of the road for pick-up, and let me take it when I asked. I refinished it and put it in my son's room (the one at college; he was less than thrilled).
I want rooms to wander in and out of. I want to be able to change my surroundings to suit my task, or to inspire me when I write. My husband already has 3 -- count 'em 3! -- locations for his various computers in the house. I work in the office or the kitchen mainly, but I've also gone downstairs, or our bedroom, or even to that desk in our son's room for a change of atmosphere.
Frankly, I would love even more room -- more acreage, more rooms here in the house. Not so much for luxury -- I doubt we'll ever have the kind of luxury home some people have, but just for the space, the variety, the charm that many rooms allow.
My mother used to tell me about when they bought the 96-acre farm the year before I was born. She told me how she went out to the yard and stood there, just feeling all that space around her, knowing it was theirs. I admit to wanting our own land, our plantation, our Ponderosa, our kingdom. I want that connection. I want those roots. I want to make it mine. (okay, more correctly, ours). It's a desire I don't think will ever go away.
Are we at the beginning of the empty nest? Maybe, but it doesn't mean we'll be finding a smaller nest any time soon. Way too much to do yet.
I could use more room also.What I'm really hoping for his a master bedroom on the first floor, also my washer and dryer on the first floor instead of in the basement.
ReplyDeleteMorgan Mandel
http://morganmandel.blogspot.com