In which dark spaces are cozy spaces

I recall that as a small child I sought out dark spaces. Not necessarily enclosed, but dark. Except that I have to be able to control the darkness - I get a thrill of fear when the lights go out unexpectedly.

I remember napping at my great aunt's house, and how I'd arrange the pillows so the afternoon sunshine was shut out. Ok, I'm claustrauphobic - any time I can't smell fresh air, I feel like I can't breathe. I suppose it's why I don't like hot weather. So, the pillows would always be balanced carefully to shut out the light, but to allow in fresh air. Even now, I tend to sleep with the covers pulled up over my eyes, but with my nose sticking out.

I once asked the delivery guys if I could have the huge box that the refrigerator had just come in, for "thinking". They didn't give it to me of course, but they did torment me by insisting that I explain why I wanted it. I was embarrased; I didn't yet understand why being inside it seemed interesting, and explaining it as a "fort" seemed silly.

I suppose it's a universal kid thing. I not only remember building cozy blanked forts as a child; I've built them for my own kid. Part of the appeal of Evan's Christmas bed (11/30/05 blog) is that he'll have a cozy - dark - space under in which to retreat. To play, to pretend, to think about things, to find himself. Children love to hide.

Last night, the coldest night of the season so far, Chris and I changed the bed, adding another layer. I have been bothered by the Christmas lights shining in through the blinds at night - recall that I do not like light shining on my face when I'm sleeping. I had a plan to insulate the bedroom from both light and the extreme cold.

It so happens that when the house was painted after the previous occupants, the hardware that attached drapery rods to the wall was left up on the window next to my side of the bed. This is remarkable, because I think it's the only place in the house remaining so, other than the living room. We have never gotten around to hanging the hardware that we brought with us when we moved almost two years ago, and so these two little hooks were the only method of hanging, other than the desperate posibility of push pins.

Two lengths of black peachskin languished in the basement, freshly washed after draping the jack-o-lantern stands at Halloween. I fetched those, and had Chris hook them over the little hooks. Suddenly, darkness.

Now this is significant, because I have intended to re-style our bedroom for a few weeks now. Our current bedroon ensemble was purchased for Wal*Mart (gah!) before we were married. I'm guessing it's at least 13 or 14 years old. Boy, is it time for a change! I want to move to purple, silver and black. (More on the re-styling in a later blog.)

Chris has always been somewhat opposed to my desire for a dark bedroom. The current burgundy-over-black fake tapestry he feels is already dark. Of course I'm going for darker. The black peachskin desparation curtain really changes the dynamic of the room, and it's a dynamic that I want to continue in the "new" bedroom. Even in the sunny afternoon today, the bedroom has been dark and inviting - but more important to the pocketbook is that when I reached behind the drape, the cold being kept out of the bedroom was remarkable! I like it. It's a marked contrast to my office which like most of the windows in the house is on the sunny south side of the house, and which tends to warm up in the afternoon. I like the sunshine in our house - it's one of the three huge reasons we moved into it. I suppose it's the contrast that appeals to me. I want to be able to have both the darkness and the light.

It's been a day full of working at the computer. I'm going to go enjoy my cave for awhile.