What I live in is a tiny apartment. It was tiny when we moved here 15 years ago and got a bit tinier when the two cats came to live with us, but it got slightly bigger when there was only one human living here in the bulk of the in between years. But now it is back to two of us again, cozy was how I described it - until the boxes came..... all of it work stuff, most of them never opened, all of it important but at the same time, demanding their fair share of floor space. They won't be here forever, at least that is what I keep telling myself and at the same time, I marvel at how big the place is going to feel once they are gone, but it is only halfhearted.
Saturday last I was up at the farm and I set in the family room and luxuriated in wide open expanse of space and delighted at the ability to simply walk across the room without a maze-like effect, and I didn't want to go home. Until the text came....an obscure note eluding to a problem with the boxes and the inability to breathe. Turns out he decided to wrangle the boxes into a more efficient order. He did a great job. I was amazed at how just a foot here and there of open floor space makes everything seem a little bigger!