Something very strange and amazing has been happening here in my basement.  There was a time when I seldom came down here other than to do laundry or enjoy the occasional winter fire in the wood stove.  Mine is a finished basement with a bathroom, a kitchen and a bar.  This summer, I converted the bar area into my scrap room.  It had never been used for anything except storing old record albums and miscellaneous personal documents.  Now that I have moved into that space, it looks like a store front franchised by Michael's!

I've been in my house for 18 years and although I hardly ever spent time in the basement during all those years, now I spend hours a day down here.  Yes, I am in the basement as I write this.  I find it strange and amazing to have discovered this area of my house that is now capable of bringing me such peace and contentment.  My home has always been my happy place, but now my happy place has grown to include this casual space where the dog can lay on the old sofa and the cat can lounge across page layouts as I churn them out.  This space has inspired me.  I wonder how I overlooked it in the past.  I wonder why I never noticed the hushed murmurings of the house and how its settling and creaking is like the soothing ruminations of the ocean.  In the basement, traffic from the highway can't be heard and the water pipes whisper "shhhhh!"