When I was in SF I had a night light in the living room. It was a three sided brass (copper?) thing with a picture of Buddha. It was more decorative than functional. When I moved into the nest I put it in the kitchen where it was still more decorative functional. There is a streetlight right out side the window and the nest was never really dark. But I had a ritual of lighting the night light in the evening and turning it off in the morning. I had to get new blinds, which block a lot of light and it is actually dark now. I'd given up on the little night light ritual after I moved the Cuisinart and the Kitchen Aid in front of it. Recently I moved it into the bathroom where it is now a very lovely night light. It's bright enough to cast some light into the hall, which is useful now that the blinds keep out the street light. Every night I smile when I see that night light. It has finally found the spot in which it can fulfill its night light destiny.
The nest isn't huge but it does have an entire room that I did not have in SF. I call it the library, which is a bit ostentatious for the size of it. It is filled with book shelves, (which will some day hopefully be filled with books). Karen helped me move things around to make it appear that I have way more than I do.One of my old shelves is on the side with a few books and a lot of junk. Despite my best efforts it is the stash shelf. For now.
It is my favorite room. I wasn't going to put a TV in it but Mom had a small TV in her kitchen and I ended up putting it on top the fireplace. The fireplace is another formally Mom's item. Electric but pretty. Now loaded with a mash up of things from my Grandmother's mantle, some books (of course), random collected stones, shells, candles and so forth. I sleep in there when the Mommy is here on the weekend.
DeAnna switched the chaise lounge from the library and a recliner that was suppose to be the place where I sat to look out the window. It ended up not quite fitting. The chaise is larger in someways but fits at an angle. I sat in it the other day with a cup of tea watching the world go by.
I sleep in my bedroom when the mommy isn't here. This may sound like a given but because of joint pain I couldn't get comfortable in bed. And then Mom needed a new bed and we got an adjustable Tempurpedic, which is wonderfully comfortable.
I haven't broken my habit of dragging my meals to the computer but I am still trying. When the mommy is here we eat in the kitchen/dining room. She looks out the window and narrates the activities on Oak Street.
When I was in NYC I lived in a studio big enough for a single bed, a small dresser and a small refrigerator. My first place in SF was a bigger studio. And then a one bedroom but I had no furniture for the bedroom. I remember noticing that I sat in the same spot on my futon long after I had more furniture. I'd become overly acclimated to small space. Now I wander from chair to chair. From room to room. I sit by my sink and stare out my window. If I feel I haven't spent enough time in a room I move. It's all so amusing to me.
The first time I left for a few months and then returned it didn't quite feel like home. It didn't smell like home. Now it's mine. I feel it wrapped around me. I fill it up.
I have always needed/wanted a good place to live. I used to want a fireplace and I've had a few. Real ones. With wood and ash to clean. Even the tiny place in NYC felt like ... life in NYC. But I think if I had found something bigger and nicer I might still be there. I lived in my last place in SF longer than I'd lived anywhere, ever. It was physically painful to leave.
Now I am in my nest. Where I can occupy my destiny.