Welcome, please forgive the mess. This is the room in which I do all my writing. It’s also the room in which I spend most of my time when at home. You see, I live in a house which I don’t particularly like, which doesn’t yet feel like home. The Boyfriend and I moved here just 12 days before The Baby was due (she didn’t arrive for another 12 days after that) and it was all a bit of a rush.
The reason we fell in love with this house, and the reason we bought it, was the amount of space. The rooms are all very generously sized, with high ceilings and large windows. What we had failed to notice until we moved in, however, was just how dark the house was, due mainly to the fact that each of the generously sized rooms had been painted either dark red or muddy brown. By February, The Boyfriend had managed to repaint (in sparkly white, mainly) all but 3 of the rooms. This did go some way to making the house a little more bearable.
What is unbearable, though, are the ants that sporadically appear in the kitchen and the dining room, and the below-freezing temperature of every room in the house bar the living room. The everything room. The Write (right?) Room.
The living room is the only room, apart from The Baby’s room (but I’m not about to perch myself atop her dresser with my laptop) which has carpet. And double glazing. Every other room has beautiful waxed floor-boards and the original wooden-framed windows. This means that they are bloody freezing, and require shoes to be worn as going bare-foot is definitely not an option, and socks cause movements akin to Bambi on ice.
I am rather ashamed to admit that in a house with three large bedrooms, a large dining room (admittedly a stupidly small, stupidly designed, stupidly dark kitchen) and an average sized living room, my day is spent playing with The Baby, writing (and reading) blog posts and other articles, and eating all three meals in the living room. I like it here. It’s white and warm and comfy. It’s ant-free and draught-free. It’s a total mess, but at least this room feels like home.