No Room at the Inn

There have been some changes to my abode in the last week.  My long-grown son who came to stay for "a little while" in March, just moved into his own apartment.  For a long while, there were three of us inhabiting my apartment built for one:  me, my son, and his bloodhound!  Once the bloodhound found a new and very happy home, it was my son's turn to find one for himself, and he has done so.  It's a terrific apartment for him, in a gorgeous setting.  With him went my old couch, chair, and ottoman.  The old carpet - thrown out.  After steam-mopping my bamboo floors and magic-erasing my new-last-year walls, my home was ready for its new arrivals:  a black leather couch and a black/red/tan faux-version of an Oriental-style rug.  I bought it because it was pretty, though it was not hand-woven in the far east.  I purchased the couch at a large furniture retail store, and the rug came from T.J. Maxx (Maxx for the minumum!). 

I'm so glad my son has his own space again.  Grown children and their single parents don't do especially well after extended months together, particularly in a small space.  It was necessary for a while, and we had to exercise a lot of patience and understanding with each other (not always successful), and sometimes even avoidance to make it work!  I'd be baking while he was sleeping.  I went to bed and he created late-night, exotic meals for himself.  We lived separate but parallel lives while trying to co-exist.  Now that my space is indeed my own again, I look forward to picking up where I left off when it was all so new.  I can now truly make it my own.  My kids are always welcome, and I absolutely love having each and every one of them in my home, but with that comes this caveat: my new couch is just that.  A couch.  It is not a spare bedroom, though it will be happy to host my kids' posteriors for long hours, but most definitely not weeks or months, at a time!

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