day 12 – Loving it at @ 5200ft above sea level

Ahhhh – I love coming up to our treehouse up in the mountains, especially the day after Thanksgiving.  Everyone is napping or reading and all our belly’s are full once again.

I’m in my teeny weeny buttercup yellow room I call my office, outfitted with a built in carpet – topped bench that lifts up for storage (super for curling up, leaning up against the wall and reading or writing), a cheap put together desk, a worn, cabin motif padded dining room chair, a brown plastic wastepaper basket, lots of pens, pencils, paper (the three P’s),  some shelves, two cork boards, a bright light from the ceiling and a window with old grey checked curtains.  That seems to be all I need in order to focus.  The diminutive space is smack dab in the center of the home.  It needs painting, updating and some detailing but the bones are there.  The well designed layout, in an area smaller than most walk in closets, suits my writing needs and intensifies, clarifies and laser pointedly shapes my mind onto whatever work I have on hand.  It’s my go to get it done place.

I’m easily distracted.  Upstairs, on the main floor, overlooking pine trees, boulders and the welcoming outdoors, I may do some imaginative, personal or exploratory writing. Or, I may get distracted by the television, kitchen, roaring fire, chickadees and bluejays feeding on the seeds and bread I put out.   But, for final copy, I sharpen and clear my center by concentrating on the detail and I require a noiseless, neutralized and calm atmosphere where I can neurotically chop, add and remove words in some sort of flow.

Much of what I write daily on this website is first draft, like now, off the cuff.  But when I write a story for class, it necessitates much more editing, precision and structure.  After all, we have to read it aloud in front of other writers.  And this unadorned little area helps me hone in, decompress from outside distractions and get some ‘real’ work done.

I am grateful for the Steger Treehouse.  One year and one week ago exactly, we were handed the keys to our cabin, the home away from home I always wanted up here by Lake Arrowhead, in the woods, surrounded by pine trees.  Many times I dreamed and wished it.  I feel very lucky and I am continually counting my blessings. I love to write on the deck, lazing on the couch, overlooking the balcony or on my bed where I always dreamed of being  – surrounded by books, snow and a shag rug in front of a fireplace, mountains of pines in the vista. But ironically, I get the most writing completed and finished inside a daffodil tinted teensy weensy box.

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