It's a bit of a grand title, because - as you can see from the glimpse above - the space in question is a little on the derelict side right now. Could it become "my own space"? It does have potential. I know for a fact because Angelo, the builder who came to fix our roof the other day, told me so. And when Angelo spoke, standing in a beam of light that came from the window, it rather seemed like a sort of an annunciation to me, and all of a sudden in place of the ancient barn, I saw a beautiful room, with immaculate white walls, dark wood beams on the sloping ceiling, a wood floor, and a sewing table by the window ... my space!
I can't say that Tom shared my vision exactly. He quickly pointed to the terrible state of the roof, to the threatening cracks in the walls, to the collapsing part of the barn just adjacent (the large room with the stone and brick oven that served the whole neighborhood on the weekly baking day). Yes, yes, but maybe ...
It was once a hayloft, above the stables where we've been keeping our firewood since when our neighbors sold the sheep and goats, and Angelo had told me to clear the floor of hay and debris so that he could take a better look at it. So I did, though I was a little naive, and perhaps underestimating just a little the size of the task, when I set to work with the heavy-duty broom I'd bought in Portugal. Decades of disuse, in fact, had caked the hay and the "debris" (which included a mummified toad and ... well, I'll spare you, but I can assure you that it was nothing that any broom of any nationality could sweep up) solidly to the floor.
By a stroke of luck, in a corner I found a large hoe. Just the tool I needed, and as I picked it up in amazement, I wondered whether my finding it in the right place at the right time was some kind of sign that the derelict barn does in fact have a future as my space.