Thursday, May 19, 2016


     One of the challenges of our upcoming move will be where to go in the new house to do “my thing.” Presently, I reside in a 300 sq. ft. “frog-family room above garage.” This room is my “woman cave,” and I absolutely love it here. the window above my desk is high, so all I can see as I’m writing my morning blog at 3:34 a.m. are the tops of the blossoming crepe myrtles and the beautiful birds flying from one branch to another. The other windpw is at the end of the room. It is arched. The sun comes up and streams into my cave every morning, and my soul lights up with the sun’s warm rays. Because the room is so spacious, I can flop down in my big old leather chair with my breakfast tray on my lap and watch the morning news. Mr. Wonderful cannot hear me, as he is zzzzzzing away down below on the other side of the house. When the mood strikes me, I sit down at my digital piano, don my headphones and practice away. If I’m up for it, I’ll hop on the treadmill or the stationary bike and work out. My weights are hidden in a corner, and the equipment is hidden by furniture and a silk tree, so when you look at the room, it looks like a lovely cozy family room. But. . . no more. I will be leaving my woman cave and searching for my personal space. 

     There is no “frog” in our new house. There is no “woman space.” The kitchen is neutral territory. I choose not to associate myself with it unless it’s absolutely necessary. Where will I practice my piano? Where will I work out? Where will I eat my breakfast? Where will I watch TV? Oh, my. What a conundrum. I have serious personal space issues, so I must figure this out. Other than heading to the beach (30 minutes from our new home), I will have to carve out a spot to call my own.

     The answer, I fear, will not be one space, but several. This does not sit well with Mrs. Perfectionist who likes to have everything at her fingertips and who requires privacy for most things, including, well,  all of the above. 

     The obvious answer for some would be to share the library with one’s spouse. NOT an option. I never learned to share. I hate sharing. 

     Another option would be to add on an addition to the new house, but that’s absurd. 

     I suppose I could do some of this in my car in the garage, but the view sucks.

     I could start a new trend and open an office on the lanai overlooking the pool, the lake and the preserve. Hmm. Now there’s an option, but what about inclement weather?  There is plenty of privacy though, so I wouldn’t have to put on make up or look good. How could I balance the umbrella while doing my squats though? 

     I could buy a tiny desk. Maybe it’s time for the “Lilliputian look.” Tiny desk, tiny space, tiny corner. I could do all my work on my tiny phone, I suppose, but I would have carpel tunnel in a week. Hmm. 

    It’s not that there’s no room in the new house; it’s that the only rooms appropriate for my purpose have no view. I suppose I could put a tiny desk in the kitchen, but I can’t see me working out next to the asparagus or squatting in the pantry. Hmm.

     Bottom line:  there will be no “woman cave” in the new house. This woman, therefore, will now inhabit several different rooms, sharing with no one.  She will enjoy several views including the view of the checkbook, the Visa card, the interior designer’s business card and the “Do Not Dare Disturb” sign. The old “frog” has croaked, and it’s time to hop into a new lifestyle. Piece o’ cake.