At church on Sunday we talked about home: Coming home to church after a summer away, what home means, what makes a home homey. We were asked to think back on our childhood homes and remember our favorite places within them. I thought about my closet.
In one of the houses we rented I had a walk-in closet that I loved. It had been a bathroom at one time and still had the medicine cabinet on one wall where I stored all of my treasures. There was also a loose baseboard where I stashed my dollars on the rare occasion that I had any.
All of my toys were in there, too: board games, Simon, a million stuffed animals, including the giant dolls my Nana Pat made that looked like my parents. It was dark in there, but I didn't mind the dark back then. It was hot, too. It was the only place I could go and work my imaginary magic uninterrupted until dinner time-- most days. I felt protected.
When I told Sweet Potato this tale she said, "You must have been a challenged child."
I'm not a fan of the closet anymore. I'm happiest in the sunlight, as I think I've mentioned. Most of my favorite spots in the home as an adult have been near a window looking out on the passersby. I think this means I'm growing, like a plant. Also, I'm a reader now, which requires light.
So that got me thinking about my favorite place in my new home. I don't have one. It makes me restless. I need to create a nook for myself, and I need to create it soon. R and I should be proud homeowners by next week, though, and then I'm going to bring in the light. Until then, I have the beach.
In other news: Today Buckaroo and I found a giant consignment store for children's clothes. They even have Sweet Potato's size. I bought Buckaroo his Halloween costume, too, and he's going to be a skunk. Sweet Potato said we should let him trick-or-treat in his stinky diaper.
Oh, and I've got my first nasturtium bloom! It looks like an orange pterodactyl head.