The triumphant return of my office

This is currently my view, as I'm writing this post from my newly re-established office. When we kicked around the idea of buying this house, I asked to have the spare bedroom for my own sacred space. My intention was to turn it into an office, but I also had all of my craft supplies, a reading chair, a space heater, and a Christmas tree during the holidays. This was to be MY space. In return, I promised Kyle the garage, the other garage, and the basement to be his to do anything at all he wanted with. A few years back, we decided my room would be better used as a walk-in closet. I hadn't exactly given up my sacred space, I had just traded it in for a smaller, cozier office space built into our previous closet, in the bedroom. I liked the idea of having it be smaller (while the former office/former closet/new office is a small room, it's sometimes too big to feel cozy) but there was something about the space that didn't work for me. I had half of the closet, while Kyle had the other half, and if I'm being honest, I think having to share it made it feel slightly less sacred. Whatever the rub was, we both spent a few years not being in love with the new tiny offices, and frankly, not being in love with the new closet, either.

Last week, I declared that I wanted my sacred space back. Kyle, who was getting twitchy about needing a new project, was on board. We first decided that changing the areas around (which would mean removing our built-in shelves, reinstalling the closet shelves, and then a massive "patch and paint" job in the office) as our winter project. When we get stuck indoors during the cold, we need something to do to break up the boredom, and renovating something is usually our go-to activity. Turns out, though, that we were both too excited for the change to put it off. We spent the last week switching the offices into a closet and the closet back into an office, and I could not be happier.

I mentioned a while back that I heard about this Danish concept called "hygge" that is absurdly hard to describe. Since then, I seem to have acquired a new fascination with Denmark, itself, and have spent a surprising amount of time learning everything I could about the country, including where it is on a map. (It's above Germany, FYI.) As Denmark is consistently rated as the happiest country on the entire dang planet, there's certainly a lot to learn. Thankfully, I have a compatriot in my sudden love of Denmark! My tape-pal (that's a pen-pal but with cassette tapes), Lara, was recently in Denmark because she's a big fan, too. I've been listening to her talk about Denmark for years, but it wasn't until my run-in with hygge that it all started coming together for me in a personal way. [This reminds me--Lara! I still have the tape. I'm working on it. Expect talk of Denmark.] I know that there's no such thing as a Utopian society, and that somewhere along the lines, someone is getting screwed in the system. But I don't want to go in search of Denmark's flaws. During this ridiculous time to be an American, I would like to just immerse myself in some Earthly happiness for a while. Some people mentally escape to Paris. I'm mentally escaping to Copenhagen.

So, I've been making sure my office is very hyggelig. The view out of the windows is of a fantastic autumnal wonderland, and I've brought in two bookshelves, the faux-leather recliner, the space heater, and this super cute horn thing I bought at Target that is a phone speaker amplifier, but also makes everything sound old-timey. We call it the "phonophone." I've been listening to swing, jazz, and ragtime through it all day. There are fairy lights temporarily placed about the room, with the intention of making them more permanent once the "patch and paint" portion of the renovation has arrived. As an added bonus, this is now the room where all of the cats seem to want to congregate, so there's that extra bit of fuzzy warmth. Essentially, I've created a new sacred space that is not only conducive to hygge, it's set my muse a-buzz with ideas. My creativity thrives in a hyggelig environment, and I'm excited to see what kind of new writing comes out of this shift.

Welcome Fall!

This Monday Morning Musing is coming to you from inside of this fantastic reading nook in my living room. All of this fall finery is a sure sign that we have waved goodbye to summer and are ready to bring on the pumpkins. Last night was our annual "Fall Changeover." All of the decor that stays up in our house from March to August has been lovingly packed away (eh, we threw it in totes and tossed them into the darkest corner of the basement, honestly) and all of those gorgeous shades of orange and creams have exploded across our house. I love it. Some people believe the "holiday season" starts with Thanksgiving, but in our house, it starts with the first day of school and goes straight on to New Year's Day.

Ah, speaking of school, my daughters started back up last week. I am proud to say that everything went smoothly, which makes it almost a non-topic to muse over, but this is a kind of exciting situation for me. I'm back to having large chunks of time alone in the house, which is going to do wonders for my writing. Even if Kyle or the girls are perfectly quiet, I struggle to get creative work done while they're in the house. I'm not entirely sure what that blockage is, but I know it's mine, and it's absurd, so I'm hoping that having this time alone will be what I need to get some momentum going with my writing to help me carry it forward into the times when they are here (and are perfectly quiet.) As an introvert, alone time is essential to my well-being, and I'm excited to see what creative things happen when I'm fully charged.

I've been working on a short story over the last week that is about a mermaid working as a bartender in a seaside town called Port Starboard. It was intended to be funny, an opportunity for me to inject some humor into my writing, but as writing is prone to do, it has taken on a life of its own. My lighthearted story has turned into a serious commentary on what we give up to live our dreams. I loved the silliness of the name Port Starboard, but it has sort of morphed into the metaphorical fork in the road. Left or right? Which way do you go? Which life do you choose? As writers, we're wise to let our characters speak for themselves rather than try to bend them to our idea of who they should be.  But dang, I was hoping to write something humorous for a change. Nothing is wasted with writers, so I'm jotting down notes on what I would be writing if the story was going my way, and maybe one of these days I'll go back and rewrite it in a way that makes people laugh rather than stare off into the distance, pondering the complexities of life. In the meantime, I'm just going to do my job and keep writing down what the voices in my head whisper to me and see where this one goes.

My coffee cup is empty once again, which means it's time for me to get moving with my day. This time next week I'll be back in class myself, so I'm taking this opportunity to just drink in the quiet until it's time to hit the ground running again. Yoga, meditation, good books, and good food are all in my near future and it feels heavenly. Welcome back, Fall. I missed you.

Monday Morning Musings

I had every intention of jumping into my day feet first. There's laundry to be done, and Monday is the day I thoroughly clean the living room and entrance way, so there is a lot of work I should be doing. However, Kyle made coffee this morning before he left for work in Cleveland and was very sweet to put some in a Thermos for me when I woke up. Honestly, I had every intention of starting the day productively, but then I opened the Thermos to pour my first cup of the day and realized he put cinnamon in the coffee when he brewed it. Instant burst of Fall Zen, right in my face. Every bit of work that needed done got pushed back because nothing was more important in that moment than lighting candles, curling up in my chair with a blanket, and savoring that coffee. While I sip, I figure it's a good time to get started on my new weekly blog feature, Monday Morning Musing, where I write about what's going through my head and my heart every, you guessed it, Monday morning.

Yesterday was an interesting day for me because it was the first time in months that I've been free to be nothing more than a Stay-At-Home-Mom. So, I put on a podcast (Magic Lessons) and cleaned the house. We've had a really busy week and, while it seems like we weren't here enough to make a mess, we managed to find the time to make a fairly epic mess. With Sunday being a day of no obligations, I just slipped back into my old role in the house and gave it the "Mom Clean." Once I had all of that taken care of, I baked a cake for Sundae Sunday (a bit of a misnomer, but Dessert Sunday isn't as fun to say) that I had been craving for weeks.

That beast is a strawberry cake with lemon frosting, coated in Fruity Pebbles cereal. I was inspired to make it after seeing a strawberry shortcake cake (You know, like the ice cream bars?) and thinking "I can do that." So I did, with my own crunchy twist.

After the apron came off later in the evening, I took stock of what I was feeling. It was definitely peace. There may be a line of women forming to slap me when I say this, but I feel that my place is in our home, taking care of my family. This is not to say that I believe this is where all women should be--I am a feminist; women belong where they want to belong--but in my case, this is true. I feel my best when I can look around my home, and at the lovely people and animals I share it with, and see that everything is taken care of. I missed this so much over these few months of going back to school.

Between this moment of bliss and being two weeks from starting my first serious novel, I'm very happy to have made the decision to cut back on my classes this semester. Rather than take a full course load, I chose to take American History (to 1865), American Literature (to 1877), and Ocean Studies. The first two classes will be a fantastic help in writing my novel, and the last is one of the first classes that caught my attention when planning my schedule. I promised myself I'd take it at the first available opportunity and that is now. My mermaid alter-ego would be highly upset with me if I didn't.

Speaking on the novel, I swore I'd start writing it on September 1st, and that's what I'll do, but I won't pretend I'm not completely terrified. I am very scared about embarking on this adventure, but I trust it's going to be good. The very fact that I'm afraid is exactly why I need to do this. I've always said that fear is like a built-in compass pointing you where you need to be going.* "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough," said some smart person at some point. I've written novels before, but never seriously. NaNoWriMo has always been something I've done for fun, with no intention of ever editing or publishing what I write during that time. It's about the spirit, the community, and just seeing what crazy things can come out of my brain when let off its leash. To know that I'm writing this novel for keeps is more than a little intimidating. I've contemplated trying to keep the mentality that I'm just doing this for me and no one else, but that's cheating. I'm trying to put something out into the world, and I don't want to skip out on that part of the experience just because it's uncomfortable. But September 1st, 2016, I'm on the hook for this one. By September 1st, 2018, I want this novel written, revised, edited, and ready to hand over to the people who will take it on the next step of its journey. That's two years I am committing myself to this novel and to Mrs. Elizabeth Markham, whose story has been lost to history until I write her a new one. That, my dears, is not a small feat.

My coffee mug is empty, which means I should probably get started with my day. All things considered, my fall is beginning to take shape. I'm feeling that deep tranquility that comes from being where you're meant to be, even if it's difficult or less-than-glamorous. I have so much to look forward to during the remainder of 2016 and I'm happy to be back on my own path.






*Unless your fear is pointing you towards bears. Then your fear becomes something we like to call "a healthy will to live." You should probably listen closely to that and back away slowly.