Today I rose at six. Usually my sweet patootie gets up before me but I lay in bed for quite awhile considering my day and then thought I couldn't out wait him any longer. I did all the SP things and a few more - put the dog out, opened the coop door for the chickens (they looked at me with great surprise), made a bodum of coffee and did last night's dishes. SP and I have a bit of a war about dishes - I hate the dishwasher and so I do them by hand...especially when it is just the two of us. He loves the dishwasher and thinks I'm weird. Once he asked me if I wanted him to pick out some nice rocks by the river to wash the clothes.
One of the reasons that I got up a little earlier is because I am trying to deal with my office. You see, dear readers, our international student, Felix, is coming near the end of the month and he will have my office as his bedroom. SP and I spent a very satisfying two hours the other day figuring out where my desk is going to go. The choices were limited. It could either go up in our bedroom or down in the downstair's den/rec room/sp's office. If it went in our bedroom, I'd have to move my shrine and also we would be introducing dreaded electronics into our restorative space and I don't like that. I don't even have a clock-radio in there.
Also, to be considered, is the fact that I MIGHT become a middle of the night writer. It hasn't happened yet but I look forward to the possibility and I'd hate to have it thwarted when it finally occurs. I so admire the middle of the night writers. It is a dream I have that I will be pounding a way at the typewriter (yes, it is a very old dream) in the middle of the night, feverishly working out my magnum opus, a dripolater of coffee by my side (yes, so old you folks probably don't even know what a 'dripolater' is).
The daybed (my snore retreat) is coming upstairs to Felix's room. We'll put the new mattress on top of it. If I need to sleep in the middle of the night I'll curl up on the couch at least until we figure something else out.
That means my desk will go under the window at the end of the room. We won't have to move bookcases (well maybe one) or anything else much - just the bed up and the desk down. We're very happy. We haven't done it yet.
A few people have asked me how I'll be able to work without a door to close but I've done it before and really my discipline is very good these days. Many days it will be just me down there - I work mainly in the morning and the kids will either be asleep or at school. Ron likes to tool around in the evening on the internet and I will like sharing the space with him if that is when I do my tooling around too. If someone watches tv (very very rare) then I will be able to do some things but not some others. So it goes.
I like having my own room and I will again but I'm really excited about this experiment we're about to enter into.
Margaret Drabble, I understand, wrote many of her wonderful wonderful early books on the kitchen counter or on the stairs or while washing nappies. Stephen King had the laundry room in his and Tabitha's smallish trailer, up against the washer (hey a theme is happening here). I think the fabulously famous Tartlette writes in the bath (I read there for sure but don't write).
Where do you write and how important is your space?