Don’t Cross This Line

When you live with teenagers, and you work a lot, you have to let some things go. I have gotten to the point in my life where I accept the disheveled desktop; I accept the bottomless laundry basket; I accept the kitchen’s relative squalor.

Accepting doesn’t mean that I’ve given up the fight. I still bellow my daily battle cries:
“Pick up after yourself!”
“You need to pitch in and clean something!”
“Who left their dishes in the sink?” (The culprit is always whoever isn’t home.)

I draw the line at my bedroom door. This is my sanctuary, my respite from the craziness at work, the bills, the schedules. True relaxation, tranquility.

This rooms contents are simple: a giant bed with a heated mattress pad, a wall of books, a big soft comfy chair, good lighting.

The mood however is set by the colors around me: pale lavender walls with moss green wood trim, a wall of windows dressed in shimmery gold drapes. These colors put me in a vineyard, in the South of France, on a crisp cool evening, where the sky is pink as the sun sets. This is my happy place…

No teenagers allowed.
Related post:
Oct 14, 2014
Sweeping Motions
What’s messier right now — your bedroom or you computer’s desktop (or your favorite device’s home screen)? Tell us how and why it got to that state.

7 thoughts on “Don’t Cross This Line

  1. Yep, no-one – aside from my best friend – comes into my room. It is my place, my sanctuary and it is so me it could easily pass for me in polite society without a soul batting an eyelid 😀


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