Have: new house
Not: new spouse
Have: new F.R.O.G.*
Not: new dog
Have: new setting
Not: new fretting**
*This is what—according to our realtor and the internet—you call a “Finished Room Over Garage” (not the name for croaky hoppy amphibians, though they can be cute, or the acronym for “Fully Rely on God,” though I am in favor of the idea generally if unsure of how to do so practically.) We had one of these in our last house, but we just called it “Lucy’s room” since our daughter lived in it when she was home from college. Now we are calling our new finished room over the new garage “the F.R.O.G.” and I am not sure how I feel about it. I’m sort of sad that we don’t have a “Lucy’s room” in this house, even while glad she is making her own way as an adult. This new F.R.O.G. so far is a space for overflow boxes, a lonely twin mattress, and an extra TV. It’s more like a froglet—the middle stage between tadpole and frog, and we’ll see what it turns into as we settle in. I’m starting a list of ideas….
**Well, if I’m being honest, this is not entirely true. Some of the fretting is the same old thing: aging and purpose and family and finances. But some is new for me: fretting (and fuming) over reproductive freedom, and deeper levels of worry over gun violence and democracy. It’s new and old fretting in a brand new setting.
Whether everything is the same old thing or new—worrisome or wonderful—writing about it is a powerful way to process it. I hope you make some time for yourself this week to write.
a writing prompt
If you had an empty room or space in your home, how would you use it? Do some dreaming on the page about it.
Is your first instinct to turn it into something you need for storage, for family, for work, or for guests? What if all that was taken care of in other spaces, and you had a truly blank canvas to use for yourself alone? What then?
