Jennifer tasked us with showing our blog spots. You know those serene, inspirational places we rest our weary selves and let the magic flow. Or in my case, my room, the man cave if you will.
Cave is really the best word for it in many ways. It is in the basement. Long, kind of narrow and dim. My housemates have the prime real estate above ground. I do have two windows that let in an annoying amount of light when I try and sleep in. This works because I am separated from everyone by a floor, the buffer zone. I don't disturb them leaving for work at 5:30 am and they know better than to disturb me, usually.
It has a dirt floor, okay, dirt on the floor. I've been trying to re organise the basement this week and have tracked stuff everywhere. You have been warned, on to the dirty bits.
The long view. My room has gradually been overtaken with stuff. I swear it didn't start out this way. My drafting table was originally in the other room but had to relocate as I accumulated even more crap to fill my house. That smudge on the wall, those are footprints. I lean back in my chair as I'm reading and walk the wall. Strange but true. It really doesn't have that high contrast in RL, time to get the pressure washer out again.
The original Pinterest board. I'm very visual and I tack up everything from the vision board to business cards. Anything that catches my interest, is vaguely important or makes me laugh.
I can easily see the television, because I procrastinate even while procrastinating. An edge of the never made bed, just in case I need a bit of a lie down after all that exercise from tapping away at the keyboard.
A little bed side reading. As you may have noticed books everywhere is a common theme in my decorating scheme. There is also a bookshelf right outside my bedroom door to hold yet more of my literary treasures and one right opposite my desk. The one opposite my desk also has the chocolate stash. Just in case I need a little energy boost.
The top of my drafting table, covered with current projects and assorted homeless objects. The socks are the result of "Sock Hospital". Gathering up all of the one ofs and after two washings if the mate is still MIA, out they go. A tragic fate but I do try and at least wear matching socks. People look at you funny when you don't.
Finally, the coffee station. There is almost always coffee on.Truly my oldest friend. No kidding, that coffee maker is about 25 years old. I have gone through five or six in the kitchen but this poor, battered, old thing keeps going on and on. Much like Titanic.
The cinnamon is for my coffee. The Windex is evidence I really do clean, or just a prop. You decide.
The big bag of white powder is not recreational. It's rice flour for a recipe. It is currently in my room because, A, I know where to find it and B, it looks very much like the corn starch, potato starch, icing sugar and meringue powder that currently reside in my kitchen cabinets in three containers. Yes that's right. Four into three. Still not sure which has been inadvertently combined. I'm sure it will be a lovely surprise at dinner one night.
If I'm not in the mood for coffee, perish the thought, there is the small beer and beverage fridge just outside my door opposite the book shelf. A guy's gotta have options.
The thing I have noticed after perusing the other entries, other than my utter lack of domestic skills, is solitude. I couldn"t get anything done if I couldn't shut my door and shut the world out. I can't work on the couch, in the kitchen, the living room ..... Way too many distractions.
I do however share a love of old school writing in actual notebooks, the back of envelopes, napkins, anything I can put a pen or pencil to. Occasionally, in the summer, I jot things down outside relaxing in my garden. No Blackberry, other than the bush, no tablet, no laptop. Just good old fashioned pen and paper. I find it strangely relaxing. Probably because I can write much faster than I can type.
Swing by Jennifer's and check out all the other hot blog spots. Now you've seen mine, let's see yours.