We don't have a computer room, we have a desk in our bedroom where our computer lives.
We don't have a studio or spare room, my sewing machine lives in the laundry cupboard and is used upon either the kitchen or the dining table.
We're currently in the process of some renovations. We're removing all our BIR's, making good the walls, removing a wall in one case, patching, replastering and repainting. We're then carpetting all the bedrooms and after that replacing all the BIR's. As part of this process our house is a shambles. I've emptied wardrobes to start dismantling and I've taken down all the dozens, literally, of framed photos from our bedroom wall, patched and readied for repainting.
We had a whole wall covered with similarly framed photos of Geoff and I and the girls at various points. These photos faced us as we lay in bed and they covered nearly a whole wall. I didn't want to take them down, but now they're down, it's so clean, so vast, I think we'll only put up a few, perhaps rotate them.
The new addition I think I'll have for our wall, over our computer desk, is a small noteboard, inspiration board, or whatever you like to call it. A place to pin the special cards, notes, pictures or ideas that come our way. I usually keep them in my purse, in one of the notebooks I always carry around with me, or my organiser. I don't generally display them on the mantlepiece, for me that's a place only for birthday or christmas cards.
I've started sending postcards, cards and letters again. Pre email, which yes, was in my adult lifetime, I would write multiple letters each week. From the time I turned 21 I lived overseas for extended periods and that meant someone I loved was always separated from me. I wrote love letters, many of them, sent postcards from dozens of locations and just "talked" to those far away. I got so much pleasure from the writing, perhaps even more so than from the receiving.
I got lazy, I stopped writing, I'd email instead. I've started again though and not suprisingly it's giving me so much pleasure. Freezing that moment in time to say to someone "I'm thinking of you", I'm ashamed that I let it go at all.
I'm lucky, there is another person who thinks the same way as me and today they brightened my day. For now their thoughts, their gesture, sits beside our keyboard, here as I type, but in only a few weeks, it will be on the board that will sit in front of me, one I can smile to, as I tap, tap, tap away.