As I get down to my evening blogging ritual, I came across my regular blog buddies talking about a writing exercise at the particular ordinary. Far be it from me to turn down a challenge, I welcome you all into my 3-D world.

I sit on a fluffy, well-loved navy chesterfield in my living room. Years of sitting on the far right side have left an ever-so-slight deepening on the cushion. It fits me. It's where I find my solace.

To my immediate right, my creamy phone sits in wait. Will he call? Hmmm...it's just before 8am in his world. He's probably just having breakfast, or maybe he's doing his morning exercises. Is he thinking of me? I don't let myself get lost on the answer. I'll hear soon...I always do. He'll feel badly for not being able to call sooner. It amazes me that he even thinks he should - his life is so ever changing now. His will is not his own.

The remote controls, the evil brains of my entertainment centre glare up at me calling me. The main one is my cigarette. My bad habit. When I sit relaxed, it is envitably in my hand, while I mindlessly flip through the guide. 57 channels and nothing on. What about 157, 257? It never changed. Only became more consuming. Over time, it became a ceaseless habit. I had to surf. It felt strange to sit through commercials, and when I have guests over, it's a conscious effort not to grab and surf some more.

Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the entertainment centre. I like watching television. I know that's against the trend these days, but I enjoy it. Whether it be trashy entertainment, or something more philosophical, I will watch anything. For the moment, it's the new episode of 'Lost'. I can't get enough of that show. It reminds me still of my Hawaii trip, and I wish I was back there.

I'm covered by a blanket. It's navy plaid. It's warm. It's comfy. It makes me feel like I'm safe. I sit with my legs tucked under me, my blanket tucked around me and my laptop on my lap. The laptop? I thought it was such a luxury when I first bought it 3 years ago. I had the main system in the office upstairs, but wanted something portable. When we went to see Hayley when she was born, I bought it so I could transfer the pictures to the waiting family as quickly as possible. Now it's the extension of me. I sit endlessly every night, surfing, blogging, typing. I can't imagine not having it and it's little wireless link to the outside world.

In front of me is the coffee table. Ahh, the coffee table. Funny story, there, you see. It's my one and only thing I got in the 'divorce'. Was it '91? '92? It's fuzzy now but I was working as a temp at a furniture importer. They were pleased with my work, but they couldn't afford to keep me. So they plied me with furniture. This beauty is a heavy sucker. It's carved oak, with glass inserts. I was so thrilled at the time. It was more than we could have ever afforded, but when I got it home, the Boy laughed. He told me I was screwed, that the thing was garrish and gross, and he would not have it in his home. So it went into storage. When we split a few years later, it was the first thing sent back to me. It's now here out of necessity rather than anything else. I haven't found anything better and it does what it needs to do.

The top of the table is littered with the remnants of my recent week of an extremely sedentary life. My journal's here. I write in it when I have a random thought. Sometimes that births something more meaningful, mostly it doesn't. There are books. Lots of books. I buy them often, but rarely take the time to read. There's magazines, and children's books (Wanna read 'The Potty Book for Girls'?), and DVDs I've been meaning to watch. Too many things to do, not enough hours in the day. How did I ever work?

Behind me is my favourite piece of art. It's by Carl Brenders and it's called One To One. The wolf in the painting watches you as you walk, and feels so real you can almost hear his breathing.Brenders is a fantastic artist and his detail is second to none. I have been a loyal fan of his work, and have several of his paintings throughout my house. One To One was my first though, and has a special place in my heart.

Now turning my head to the left, my eyes gaze down to the dog's bed. Molly doesn't fit in it anymore, like she did when she was a puppy. She still tries though, but it's now just a matter of her getting in, turning circles, clumsily trying to lay down and then getting annoyed, just to lay down right beside it under the curtain. Her best toys have migrated there....she has dutifuly brought them over time and it's now overflowing like some pre-teen girls bed. I swear I'll come home one day to posters of Justin Timberwolf tacked above.

The recliner lies just beside the door. It's draped in the afghan my Nan knit me when I was 8. Was that really nearly 28 years ago? It's been my security blanket since. If I was sick, and that's been often, it's the one thing I need closeby. I let no one touch it. Well, except Hayley. She's allowed, but it's the first time I've ever let anyone near it. She is one special little girl.

So many knick-knacks around. It would take ages to describe them all. There's lighthouses, candle holders, and pictures. The pictures change often, depending on what is close to me at the time. For now, I have a picture of my 4 brothers and I. First and last time we had been together in the same room in probably 10 years. It was taken in 2001. Everyone laughed at the time when I insisted on that picture, but now that we haven't been able to be in the same place again, it's cherished. Below that, is the Hayley shrine. The new Walmart special with her pink little outfit and her fake smile. She's not one to have professional pictures taken. Beside that is one I took of her last year. With her purple Gap sweatshirt, and matching purple sunglasses, she is the trendiest toddler on the block. Too bad, the spaghetti sauce in her hair didn't match.

My gas fireplace is on. It makes the place seem so cozy. So warm. It's my ritual at night. After dinner, I flip on the fireplace, gather my laptop and curl up on the couch for the evening. It's what grounds me.