My Living Room

You know this place; it’s a place much like the one you live in. My living room isn’t much more then a place for stuff, a sofa, couple of chairs, the television and plenty of movies to go around. Of course there are walls and a ceiling, well maybe not. I have seen places in Arizona and New Mexico that could be called a living room that had no walls at all, only curtains hanging from thin wires stretched crossed pillars.

I guess my living room is more then just a room in the house. It is the place of happening, the room of memories. This is where Kelsey took her first steps, where many heated arguments took place and where, I’m sure, many more will take place. The sofa in this room is more then a place to rest your tired feet, it is the sick bed for all the family, the place for sacred conversations with my children, the place of oh so many naps and sees more than it's fare share of backsides. The chairs and the carpet are the same, play dough, juice, pie, you name it; it has been spilled on, thrown-up on and pooped on.

The walls at the moment are in disrepair because I'm taking down the last thirty years of dark paneling – lord I hate paneling. I am repainting and repairing. Owning a house with a living room means you do this from time to time. Now is the yellow time. I am in a French provincial mood this week and I want to see yellows and reds in this room for the next few years.

If the Kitchen is the heart of the house then my living room is the lungs, it’s what breaths life into a home. Kick off your shoes, plop down on the sofa; we have a movie getting ready to start. If you're lucky we might spill something on the new carpet and get the baptism over with while you're here.