You know how potential buyers on HGTV always say that they can picture themselves living in a house that they're checking out? They imagine themselves cooking gourmet feasts in the huge kitchen with the island. They envision the great parties that they're going to throw in the backyard next to the Olympic-size infinity pool. They look at the guest bedrooms and mutter that they're too small or dimly lit. Then the husband usually walks into the cellar/basement/attic, breaks into a big smile, and says, "Now, THIS is what I'M talking about!" The wife then rolls her eyes, looks at the real estate agent, and shrugs, "I guess that room will be his man cave."
I don't know when man caves became standard (my husband claimed the bonus room for his very own), but I do know that when we walked through our house for the first time, I saw the spare bedroom downstairs and knew at once that it was going to be my study. It was located in the back of the house, perfect for deep thoughts and intense grading marathons during the school year. Soon after we bought the house, my husband painted it a lovely green color and I decorated it with pictures of close friends, mementos from my travels, and russet and brick red accents. I originally had a window seat surrounded by bookshelves, but my husband and I decided to move the windows to the other wall and filled up the windowless space with even more bookshelves.
I love bookshelves. As a lifelong bibliophile, I am reading anywhere between two to five books at a time. As a teacher, ample shelf space is a godsend. On the left side, I keep my books for work. This includes books that I teach, study guides, literary criticisms, and related materials. My DVDs, audiobooks, copier, and printer are located in the center section and my leisure books can be found on the right side. You can barely see the four wicker baskets behind my watermark, but I fill those with art supplies, greeting cards, notes, printer paper, and miscellaneous items ranging from my husband's old guitar songbooks to my kids' stickers.
Over the past two years, my oldest daughter's artwork took over my study, but today, I decided to reclaim it for my own. My little ceramic vases reemerged from behind the paper boxes DN made during her origami phase. The art supplies and art books went into her room and the extra scraps of paper filled two large trash bags. There are still a few signs of DN's handiwork. A paper tree branches its way up one side of my bookcase and her pteranodon pictures grace the wall next to my pictures of Senegal.
I'm starting to get there...wherever "there" may be.