Tags

, , , ,

autumn leaves and evergreensThis (above) is not my view.  But I’ll take it!

As of today, I have relocated to the study/guest bedroom/Rex’s bedroom.  I can’t write downstairs where I used to.  I have a very happy boy who likes to bounce in periodically to tell me things like “I just acquired a new skin:  Dragrot, the evil serpent king.  He’s got 6 arms and shoots acid out of his eyes, all 8 of them!”

Yeah.  Woo hoo!  I’m thinking, Goggles NOW.

I haven’t spent much time in this room.  According to our blueprints of our house, the owners put dreamed up this addition in the 1950s.  Downstairs, it  formed the now-family room (formerly dining room) and laundry room.  This room has warm oak floors installed with wooden nails.  It’s painted a sage green.  One side of the room is an office.  A large desk, supporting a computer with two monitors and an L-shaped bookshelf fill the space.  There is a small window high up in the wall on the study side. It faces our bedroom, which is also an addition. No worries; it doesn’t look *into* our bedroom.  Creepy!

A heavy curtain separates it from the other side of the room, which is the guest bedroom. As of this week, Rex commandeers the queen-sized bed.  He sleeps in exactly the same place every day.  He misses my mom, I believe, whose plot this is when she visits.  The bedroom side has two huge windows that look out over the front yard, providing some of the best views of the yard and Shelton itself.  Jonathon slaved hard on our baby whale-shaped lawn, lovingly nurturing the grass from its seed-infancy.  It’s a sweet patch of green, if I do say so.  He also built two planter boxes and dug out the 40-year-old elephantine camellia bush threatening to swallow the house whole.

The sun is shining today, burning off the morning fog. It’s peaceful in my newly acquired lair.  I sigh with contentment. Gazing out the window from my perch, I can see golden-brown autumn leaves of the sycamore maples contrasted against the evergreen of the Douglas firs.  They’re both growing together out of the hillside.  Rex lets out a whiffling snore now and then.  Zac’s voice, talking to himself and/or the computer, hums up through the floor.  I think this will work.  We can grow together in our new configuration.

Advertisements