bookmark_border“Where’s all your stuff?

That was the question a friend asked when she visited my new place.

All the stuff I need is here in my tiny perfect condo. I do have a ladder, tools and some family stuff in storage, but I try hard not to hang on to things I don’t need or love. Pretty much everything around me is nice to look at or serves a purpose. Some even do both.

I’ve always appreciated interesting small spaces. In my twenties, I rented a teeny apartment in the downtown core. It was quite small but well organized and tidy — much like I’ve set things up now. (I also owned a hideous green couch set at the time. That particular selection — a vile Aztec pattern — was a huge home decor error but each ugly item I’ve ever purchased has been a learning experience.)

It’s certainly a big change from my last home — it’s almost a third the size and is missing some high end features, among some other things, that didn’t make the trip across town. But I don’t need a giant gas range or three bathrooms to be happy. I believe that happiness is a choice; it does not come from things…it comes from within.

I’m still not totally settled, though. Once of the tricks to living small is having enough storage space so things can be neatly hidden away. You see, I forgot to mention that I also have a few pairs of footwear in storage and those little babies can’t come home until they have place to hide. A serious bank of closets will take care of that problem and will also streamline my bedroom which is a bit messy for the time being.

Once that project is complete, the bedroom will have triple the closet space and a Murphy bed that I can hide during the day. The place is not a studio, there is a separate bedroom but all those closets will be easier to access if the bed folds away. Plus it will look much neater.

I am not sure how long I’ll be here — I may tire of tiny — but it’s a lot of fun getting it set up.

bookmark_borderA matter of opinion…

My friend J. (the one who speaks of stones in shoes) shared another one of her sayings today at brunch:

You’re only as old as you look.

This made laugh as my friend P. (also at brunch) thinks I am obsessed with getting older. Perhaps I am. Or maybe I’m just more vocal about the inevitable.

J’s right though, I most certainly feel my age most days. What with my aching knees, failing eyesight and myriad aches and pains, but I look a lot younger than I feel. And according to J., that’s what counts. Or, at least, I think that’s what she meant.