Room

Yesterday on the way home from work I stopped at Belgian Nursery and bought four houseplants. This was a risk because when anxious or depressed I tend not to look after things. Only four of the hardiest, scraggliest indoor plants have survived from the dozens that lived various times at the old place, and I had practically sworn off purchasing more. But these days I feel a fresh wind blowing, and am open to risks and possibilities. Two of the new ones are easy-care, but the Croton and blue Plumbago will not tolerate neglect. The latter is the flower in this icon. I developed a special fondness for it from that photo. It will thrive in my southwest bathroom window if I take care of it.

Last night a tremendous consolidation occurred. I shifted boxes from room to room to room and back again, unpacked a few, reorganized and squeezed what remained into two particular corners. Boxes of similar things are stacked together. This apartment lacks storage space, so I plan to obtain a large cabinet to contain bulky things that get used infrequently, like canning jars and art supplies.

But the movement freed amazing floor space and left the apartment neat enough for living and entertaining. What remains to be done can be broken into discrete projects and handled one space at a time.

I have placed my prize possession, the 1920s oak library table, in an exclusive writing space. Cheque books and money matters are forbidden (my desktop computer and paraphernalia of worry sit in another alcove of another room). Even art projects are not allowed; the large living room provides another corner for that. So I should never need to move my writing to make room for another project.

And for the first time there is enough space for my entire library. I acquired a few hand-me-down shelves from OOTS and designated an entire living room wall for books. They are all unpacked now, awaiting organization, and bringing a studious air to the room.