nest

Here in the gentle middle of the Volunteer State, March has come in like a lamb. Just thought I'd share.

In other news, the fact that it's a new month means that there's a new theme at Creative Every Day: nest. I like it. February's word, passion, was so full of energy. Nest is quieter, gentler, more introverted. Like me, you say? Heh.

I like nesting, and being in my nest. I like spending every night tucked into my chair stitching. I like cozy (not cramped) space. Someone once remarked about my father's house that he kept the yard and plantings overgrown as a way of hiding. At the time (I was much younger and considerably less wise) I understood what she meant. There's a vulnerable side to my father that he protects, and though it's possible that his surroundings hide him, I think it's more that he likes his nest, and the coziness of being surrounded by things that bring him pleasure. I am like him in that way.

I've noted before that the four-foot radial sweep from where I sit right now--a place where I spend a great deal of time--reveals a great deal about me. It's a place where I write/express myself; stay in touch with the people who matter to me (including you, gentle readers); on the wall are calendars of dogs and quilts; prints and artwork of sheep and dogs; a bulletin board with photos of times, people and places I hold close in my heart; a strip of tartan silk from our wedding; my icons; PC catalogs and info; dictionary, thesaurus, bible, hymnal, sudoku book; a silkescreened print of celtic birds bought at Dunvegan Castle on the Isle of Skye; CD's and tools for crafting. But you already knew those things, or could have offered them up had I asked you to do so. This is my nest. It comforts me and lulls me and supports me. It's also the place I choose to be when I need to confront hard realities, lick wounds, or pray for strength as I suit up for a difficult task. It is home.

But that's just me. What does nest mean to you?