What is your favorite room in your house?

When I was growing up, one of my favorite things to do was to sit down with house plan books and to look at different layouts.  I would imagine what each room would look like, and how it would be decorated.  Which would be my favorite place to spend time?  What would the lot look like?  Where in the world would it be, and how would that impact the landscaping?  What color schemes and decor would be featured in each house?

As with my nature, every house I looked at on paper had a different feel to it - and none of them was favored more than the other (as you know, I don't make up my mind easily).  I loved the houses for different reasons.  Even if they were on paper and in my mind.

I often wonder how many of those houses actually ever got built by anyone.  And if they didn't, how the architect may have felt about that particular snub to their work.  But, in my mind, those houses lived.  They were built, if not in reality, then in my conscious.

And  I just got sidetracked because over at
http://design-milk.com/favorite-tv-home-apartment-floor-plans/
 they have ALL my favorite character's layouts.
Even Golden Girls and Will and Grace!

I never had an affinity for one room over another until I became a teenager.  That's when my bedroom became my sanctuary.  Everything I ever wanted lived in that room.  My water bed, my cat, my favorite videos, my books.  Everything I wanted to keep close to me.  It was all there.

Now that I am older, you would think that my favorite room would have changed to the kitchen or living room, since I have a house of my own.  But, instead, I find myself still captivated by my bedroom.  My pillows.  My blankets (especially the heated one in the winter).  My retreat.

The revelation surprises me, because I find that I haven't changed all that much.  But then also doesn't surprise me, because I am a creature who loves warmth, comfort, familiarity, safety and surety.  And those things can only be found in my dreams.

What is your favorite room in your house?  Did it change if you moved?  Have you lived in one place your whole life?

What I'm most looking forward to for spring and summer.

Today was the quintessential spring day.  It was clear blue skies and warm (but not yet warm enough for me to take the sweater off) with just a hint of a breeze.

It makes me long so much for warmer weather, flowers, and the scent of fresh cut grass, and the spring onions that invariably make me nauseous and sneezy when they're mowed over.  

But, what I want to hear most - above all else - is the beginning of the races.  Up behind my house is the local racetrack/speedway.  Every Friday night in summer, they race cars.  The sound of the engines roaring is like a bell that rings to bring on my Pavlovian response of tank tops and beach trips.  

Once I hear that beautiful sound, I know that there will be no more cold.  There will be no more snow or ice.  And it will be light and warm, and I can open all of my windows to hear that beautiful, sweet, dirty sound.  It is the rush that I crave, even without realizing that I crave it.  I don't always look forward to it.  Sometimes it sneaks up on me.  All of the sudden, I hear the roar of those engines and I am giddy with excitement, despite my delighted surprise.  

My mother never understood why I didn't mind the noise.  It was the only thing about the house that she had reservations about that I can remember.  She figured it might wake the baby.  It never did.  And it was always a source of joy and contentment for me.  It signaled the beginning of when I could sit under my carport in the evenings and sip on something cold while relaxing and watching the young'un play outside.  Time for dining al fresco.

I'm looking forward to this so much.  I simply can't wait.  I am hoping it happens in the next few weeks.  I never look up the schedule, and I still won't.  I like for it to be a surprise.  I'm just hoping that after such a cold winter, the surprise comes sooner than later.

Move along...nothing to see here.

Why does I feel the need to write (or type as the case may be), when I have nothing to say?  It's as if a force is compelling me to write something - anything - simply so that my fingers are occupied.

True story - I actually set this blog up in September.  But for lack of anything to say, didn't post anything till December.  Although they say "Everyone has a story to tell" this isn't really writers block...I just have yet to find a story  I feel  is interesting enough for me to bother telling it.

I see the same writers itch in my daughter that I see in me.  It doesn't have to be good...it just has to be on paper.  (oh the poor trees!)  She started Chapter 3 on her short story tonight, before I commandeered her into helping me plan a March menu.  She would still be writing (and illustrating) now, I think, if I had not distracted her attention.

Do you ever feel the need to write, but have nothing to say?  Perhaps this is just a left-over from my adolescence, when I would write to gather my thoughts.  Or, perhaps this is more common.  I don't know.  What I do know is that when something really inspires me, I feel that I write much better, and that it's worth reading.  This post, may not be worth the read (sorry no refunds on that 2 minutes I just killed), but it is a question I've wanted to find the answer to repeatedly.  And, maybe by putting this out there, someday, someone will be able to answer it.