I blogged about the chaos that is my “office” back in 2009. It’s now October of 2013 and my desk remains exactly where it was, with ten feet of open space between me and a television with surround sound. My husband’s desk is still two steps behind me.
There have been a couple of changes since then, of course. My older daughter, the one who wants the TV on for background noise, now prefers to hole up in her room and make duct-tape art during the rare moments she’s not dancing or doing homework. The younger daughter and my husband have now claimed the TV and spend way too much of their leisure time playing Minecraft. I've decided I prefer the theme song for “Dog With a Blog” to the endless bleating of sheep or virtual scrape of pickaxes. Our new laminate floors, while gorgeous, amplify each sound until I swear I’m down in the mine with them.
While moving my computer is impossible, I decided to claim one small corner of the house as my own. A place to read and relax. A place to hide when the noise level around me gets to be too much. A place to banish myself to when hormones or tempers flare.
My bedroom was the obvious choice, since the open floor plan that once drew me to this house includes few doors that close. I've recently repainted in there and, other than for the TV, the room is a throwback to 1917. I cleared out a space and went out in search of furniture. I found this comfy Morris chair at a local antique store. It was made in 1902 in a town maybe fifty miles from where my great-grandfather lived that year. If this weren't enough of a selling point, the upholstery matched my bedspread. The ends of the armrests even curve to fit my hands.
The owner of the store suggested an antique gout stool instead of an ottoman. It looks a bit strange, but supports feet and legs at a natural angle. As soon as I tried it, I grinned and said “sold.” I’m not sure the stools did anything to relieve gout, which could account for their lack of popularity today, but they feel heavenly.
My eight-year-old has already claimed both chair and stool as hers when that (hopefully far-off) day arrives that I have no further need of them.
So here it is, my serenity amid chaos. I think everyone needs such a place, especially creative types.
What’s your place?