Making a Haven

I've never had a strong urge to make a place my own...until now. I have a new house now and it's mine. This house is my place. Deep inside me, I know this is my gift. I will turn this into a haven, a place that is warm, comfortable, and welcoming to all who enter.

The sunroom here is shaded right now. The are multiple trees on this property; the three walls of windows frame them for me. The couch is brown with sea-green throw pillows, and atop it is a denim couch cover to protect it against the depredations of the cats. Kitty corner from the couch is my glider rocker and ottoman. A framed reproduction that hasn't hung from a wall in nine years is hanging now. The Galileo thermometer with it's jewel-tone globes hangs as if the space was waiting for it. This room will never hold a television or a computer. This is my room and I knew that the moment we first viewed the house. These, then, are my choices.

I have a new assurance in this house. We all like it here, but this place is largely mine to mold into a place away from the outside uglinesses of this world. No more makeshift solutions or temporary methods here, but somewhere that reflects me. I have, like my mother before me, a china cabinet. My treasures are on display now, not packed away or wrapped in layers. Bookends that match sit atop it, waiting for something to bracket.

The china cabinet is new, and so is the couch. We moved in during March, and since that time the furniture delivery men have been here several times. The kitchen table is new and there are two desks now, both mine. One holds a finished jigsaw and one in progress, while the other stands ready in the sunroom, ostensibly for the people but hugely approved of by the cats.

I love my home and it is my desire to make it calming and lovely, a worthy shelter from the unremitting storm outside. I look forward to it.