Home, Heating, and Hygge

Full disclosure: this was typed yesterday morning, on an empty stomach – sorry. As of yesterday afternoon, we have heating!!!! Woohoo!

Maybe 2018 will be a voyage of self discovery; I have certainly learnt a lot about myself over the past few weeks.

I have always thought of myself as being a great wanderer who thrives on change. My parents would call me a gypsy when I was younger, because I was always on the move, and my husband thinks I am the twitchiest person alive. I’m that woman who moves her furniture around every month so it doesn’t look the same. I never expected to put roots down anywhere, but I did.

My latent gypsy tendencies have been tested hard over the past few weeks.
We have been forced to live a transient lifestyle,  due to our on again, off again heating situation. Hotel rooms, friends houses, libraries, museums, any heated indoor public space was our domain…
…and I am so tired.
Tired of schlepping my life around in bags, tired of packing and unpacking, tired of keeping track of possessions. But the main thing I am tired of is:  not being in my own space.

I need my own space.

So here I am, back in my freezing home, ensconced in my frozen workroom. I am wrapped in a blanket, with a space heater by my feet, a woolly hat on and a big mug of ginger tea. Don’t tell me I don’t know how to enjoy life, I have embraced the concept of Hygge! I even have a bloody scented candle in here!
I choose to be here. I don’t really have to be here. Many kind friends have offered me their warm homes to work in (thank you, friends), and I have tried it, but I JUST WANT TO BE IN MY SPACE. Hear this, I don’t even want to be at the library (gasp! ) I just want my own space.
Yes, I would rather sit here in the coldest house in Virginia, than be in a warm, cozy library – you heard it here.

I missed being in my home, I missed knowing where everything is, and how everything works. I missed being able to make myself proper tea with my own blend of chai masala. I missed being able to use any combination of art materials I want to, not just the ones packed in my overnight bag. I missed not having to clear up my mess.  Moving around was an adventure, but now – now I am content.

Home sweet Home

There I’ve said it, I’m a homebody. I don’t know how long this love affair will last. I still have plans to give away belongings, and trek across deserts when I am retired.
It is just so nice to be here even though the house is cold and horribly messy, and there are footprints everywhere from the heating technicians.
Give me just a few minutes to thaw my fingers off, and clear the fuzz in my head, and I ‘ll start making art again. Promise.

 

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