Today is A Room of One’s Own Day (thank you, Virginia Woolf). The importance for human beings to have a place they call their own cannot be overstated, especially if the human being wants to create something without being asked what she’s doing and can she make a sandwich for somebody or find somebody’s socks. Put a lock on that door. In fact, maybe this should be A Door of One’s Own Day because a room without a door is like an alcove, which is not good enough. Doors for Everyone.
It’s also Opposite Day, which just sounds annoying, and Cordova Ice Worm Festival Week, which sounds intriguing, depending on how you feel about ice worms.
Oh boy, I need a Room of One’s Own really badly right now. Headphones just aren’t enough, and our place is rather small and full of boys being boys at full volume. My darling husband has taken them away for the weekend, which is a gift of great price; I’ve just found out they’re going to be coming home early, and I’m trying to mentally readjust my expectations and needs.
Could you convert the attic? A garden shed? (I could not cope with that noise and energy all the time!)
We rent.
We rent, too — similar issues. I claimed one of the closets. It’s, um, small, but I fit a little writing table and chair. And lights. It works surprisingly well.
Maybe you could try something like that?
Everybody needs some space of their own!
Oh, how I wish I had a room of my own last night. The happy is that I’m at a quilting retreat. The challenge is that my roommates SNORE! Not petite little snorts. Also, a woman in the room next to us snores. Here’s hoping caffeine can compensate or else I may make more mistakes than progress. 😣
At an RWA conference (back before I switched to writing mystery), I had two roomies with whom I’d been matched online. One is still a good friend today. The other snored so loudly, and with such terrible sleep apnea, so it sounded like she had died mid-snore, and we kept waiting to see if she’d start breathing again. I think we could have slept through the loud snores (and they were loud enough to be heard out in the hallway), but the lack of breathing was what really kept us awake.
Ever since, I’ve made sure I had ear plugs in my luggage when I travel. They come in handy when people are running up and down the halls too.
I’m a quilter, too, Kelly. I also have the gift of living by myself (okay…dogs and cats in the house. Farm critters outside.) I had a horrible day teaching on Wednesday, and took myself to English Paper Piecing night at the Quilt Shop. No fee, no class, just people sharing ideas about quilts and beyond, with the zen of hand stitching.
I hope you can create a quiet space for yourself. 🙂
“…the gift of living by myself…” What a lovely way to put it.
Thank you Gin and Debbie! Yes, one of my roommates kept sounding like she died mid-snore. I asked if she’d ever been tested and her answer was a very definite NO! and I WILL NOT be tested as she WILL NOT sleep with a mask on her face. So, the second night I used earplugs and got a lovely 6 hours rest. The place we stayed at very wisely supplied them.
I did get some blocks made and will post them on Working Wednesday.
I cherish my Room of My Own. Whatever I call it – man-cave, appartment, dotter’s garage – it is where I live. Everyone knows to knock and wait permission to enter because “grandpa may be watering his plants naked.” More likely, I haven’t bothered to dress beyond the minimum, but I have a robe to hand. My room is actually two rooms. I have a full bath of my own as well. The freedom to take a soak or a long, hot shower cannot be appreciated sufficiently.
This is going to take a room of one’s own day to a whole new level. This morning while we were having breakfast my husband’s cell phone starting going bonkers. I went over to read the message and it read out to shelter in place. It seems there is an active shooter in the next town. It scary enough to see it happen on the news but not when it is this close. It’s in an area of town that has newer apartments, shopping and commuter ferry. I so hope the person involved doesn’t do anything more stupid.
Suspect now in custody
Oh good! What a frustrating thing it sounds like! You know something bad could happen, but it’s not like you can really monitor and keep tabs of what’s going on to fix things. Glad things are better.
I had my private office taken away from me this week.
‘Nuff said on private rooms there.
Cordova Ice Worm Festival sounds like something from Star Trek.
Saw a perfect home today. We are going to put in an offer, but it looks like there will be a bidding war, so I’m not holding my breath.
Hope you get it.
For years I dreamt of having an extra room just for me in whatever apartment or house I was living in. In 2015 we moved to house where each of (the two) of us has a room. It’s wonderful — everything I dreamed it would be.
Unfortunately, when people visit my room becomes the guest room; I admit, I’m glad when they leave!
Why is your room the guest room, instead of the other one? Or taking turns.
My room is the guest room because it’s on the first floor in a separate wing that contains a bathroom and two bedrooms. I had planned to use the other first floor bedroom — which my daughter uses when she visits — as the guest room. But our overnight guests have all been allergic to cats. My daughter’s cat scent — even with lots of cleaning after she leaves — makes those folks miserable. So, that’s why the guests so far have stayed in my room.
My husband’s room is one that most people would choose first. It’s on the second floor off the upstairs/main bedroom and is like a ship’s pilot house with windows on three sides and lots of bookcases. It is also tiny and could never fit a blowup mattress, let alone a bed. He loves his room to the point of feeling guilty that I let him have it. Neither of us would want to have a guest upstairs with us, though once a guest brought his last surviving pet finch when he came for a Christmas stay. The finch stayed in my husband’s room. I had to keep my bedroom picked up because all the Christmas guests kept tromping upstairs to visit the bird.
I prefer my room because it’s standard bedroom size and also has lots of windows. I’ve added lots of bookcases. I don’t invite people over for the night as often as I thought I would.
Same here! His room is smaller and full of records so no space for a bed. My room is full of books and knitting and has the en suite bathroom.
I was curious and went to the Ice Worm Festival website. They look like they’re having a good time (yeah for deelyboppers) and I was pretty relieved to see that the ice worm is not a real worm. Whew. One less thing to have nightmares about.
As to private space, YESSSSS! I love friends and family but they wear me out. Quiet is healing.
I sometimes had to share a bedroom with my sister when we were growing up. So happy when I didn’t have to share anymore. I did manage to survive roommates in college. I had a couple of really good ones-Friends fo Life.
Now I have a house to myself and the dog. She’s usually very accomodating. Today, however, she just wouldn’t accept that we couldn’t go for a walk because-RAIN. Fortunately, it did stop for a bit so we were able to get out for enough of a walk to placate her.
Love a room of my own, an absolute must in the next abode. Or my own heated and wired for electricity shed. And maybe a little en-suite.
Went shopping at a warehouse sale, found a terrific raincoat. Wind and rain proof. Really great buy. I’m happy. And a pair of very cool shoes. Extra happy. My post for today and tomorrow.
I have lived by myself for most of my adult life, after a brief marriage back in my mid-20’s, and a few roommates in broker days.
I occasionally think about getting someone to share the house with me, in part for the company, and in part for the help. Then a friend comes to visit for a bit and I remember how much I love to live alone 🙂 Maybe someday, but for today, I wish cherish my rooms of my own, now matter how slanted the floors or crooked the walls.
Also, cats.
Cats don’t live with you, they graciously allow you to live with and feed them. Nicole Hollander wrote a book called,” Everything Here Is Mine : An Unhelpful Guide to Cat Behavior”. The cartoon on the back shows a cat sitting in front of a sign that reads, “Dear Cat Lover, I entreat you not to buy this book…..Some things should remain a mystery. Signed: A cat, just like yours”.
I cannot tell you how much I love living alone. At this point, I don’t think I could live with anybody else.
My friend and cat sitter came for a week and ended up staying for two because a storm made her reschedule an important check-up with her oncologist (who is closer to my house than to hers). I actually enjoyed her company and thought, “Wow, I’m going to miss having someone around when she’s gone.”
Spoiler: I did not.
That first morning was so quiet… ah.
I moved just before I got married, and my sister sagely insisted that I make sure to give my DH his own space. I went from four small bedrooms (master, guest, office, den/craft) to a larger space, but fewer rooms. DH has one bedroom/office/guest room and I have the other for my crafting. My office is in the master. I do miss the days where my mess wasn’t all over the dining room and other places, but I love this house. So, trade-offs.
And cats too.
I had a room of my own in ICU recently. And, as glad as I was to be released back in to the wild yesterday, I am just as glad to have the house to myself (Grandpa took the boys for the day) for a bit.
I would also love for our bedroom to be a sanctuary, but I find that it’s the last room to be tidied, ever.
This past week I learned, though, that self care is a vital thing, and that includes a tidy room.
I’m glad you’re out of the ICU! I hope you’re doing well now.
Self-care just makes sense. So glad you’re out of the ICU!
I gave my car a room of its own yesterday. Backed into the garage door with the car and made it inoperable. My car had to stay home. Luckily my neighbor works at the same school I do and he hadn’t left for work yet.
Today another neighbor came over with his big ass tractor and shoved the door back into place and we pushed it open. I don’t dare to roll it back down again, but now that the glass is all swept up and the things near the door moved to the back in case of snow, at least I’m not stuck at home.
Good neighbors are indispensable. Norm didn’t even tease me about demolishing my garage door. At least not after I told him I did it to make sure he had something fun to do today. A new garage door is somewhere in my future. But not the near future. Not unless I write a bestseller or something.
I’m not holding my breath.
I have been considering if I will rent out a room again after my current housemates leave. They finish school in May, and won’t likely remain here in the middle of nowhere. They are lovely young people and easy to live with. I’m not sure I will have such good luck next time. I’d like someone closer to my own age to move in, but it’s so unlikely. Also, my kids are mad that they don’t get their own rooms when they stay. Not that they can’t learn to get over that. Also, the oldest’s room was given to one of her brothers when she went to college so she’s just out of luck all the way around.
I was thinking of putting bunk beds into one of the rooms and they could all just sleep in the same room. Then I would have a nice double room for me, a guest room, a bunk room, and a craft room. I could rent out the guest room…
I don’t know. I like living by myself except when I get lonely or bored. A roommate who was also a friend might be nice. AND we would both have our own space, so there’s that.
When Lani lived with me, we had a blast, but the house was 4000 square feet. That made a huge difference; she and the kids were on the third floor and I had the second. I couldn’t do it in the house. I love having Krissie for a week, and then she misses Richie too much and I wave her happily good-bye. I love living alone.
Yay to A Room of One’s Own–both the concept and the book!
Hubby and I both work from home so we each have our own studios. On different floors. Very important for sanity and productivity;)
I think Virginia was definitely on to something with the Room thing. But a lot of her writing, and her Three Guineas essay in particular, had lots of interesting takeaways, too. I like to imagine she’d be very happy to know that lots of women everywhere now sit in rooms of their own reading her words:)
Paul and I love having our own spaces. I have the sewing/guest room and my library and he has the garage/wood shop. We have two TVs, one upstairs and one down. I record my shows upstairs and he records his and the shows we watch together downstairs. We each have a space where we can leave half-finished projects and not worry about inconveniencing the other or anything.
My parents are the only people I know who up-sized after their children moved out. (Of course, they also moved across the country from Saratoga to San Diego.) They got a huge house so they could both have their own offices, in addition to enough shared space that they could each go off on their own to watch TV or read. Now that they’re in their 80’s, they’re thinking maybe they should get someplace smaller and easier to take care of, but they keep getting stuck on needed a room of their own.