A Room of My Own...

Cro, at Magnon's Meanderings

has recently put up a post about his wild and woolly

days renting flats in London in the 60's.

Crazy times of living in less-than-desirable

conditions, but with utter, complete, beautiful freedom.

It occurs to me...

I have never had a room of my own!

I left our family home,

where I had (happily) shared a room with V.

to go live with and eventually marry, Rudy.

He and I have shared (many) spaces since...

but I have never had a room with my signature/style

stamped securely on it.

I raise this because, on the way home tonight, 

I listened to a report on the CBC radio show,

As It Happens, that spoke about a British study

that has followed 5,000 people born in the first week of March 1949

for the past 65 years.  Gathering information about every detail of their lives,

economic, family, education, work experience, they have put together
a composite of what and how experiences shaped their lives.

When asked what she would garner as one important, summarial fact,

an 'expert' on the study said:

"CHILDHOOD MATTERS".


I don't know if it was important that I didn't have my own room.
Goodness knows, some kids today don't even have their own pair of shoes,
but for some reason this resonates with me.