Moving into my daughter’s basement apartment felt pretty dull at first. I worried I’d lost something—freedom, flair, maybe even a little dignity. But last week, we “landscaped” the back entrance, and suddenly, I don’t feel so dull anymore. We hung a shower curtain printed with an Italian street scene—weatherproof, charming, and oddly transformative. Now, when I step outside, I imagine a gelato shop and bakery just beyond the cobblestones. It’s silly, but it makes me smile. Bananas still give me a tummy-ache, and I wear a size 7 shoe, but I’ve found a little magic in this corner of the world.
I used to think reinvention had to be dramatic—new cities, big changes. Turns out, it can be a shower curtain and a good imagination. That’s enough.
There’s something comforting about small joys. A pretend piazza, a breeze through the curtain, the scent of bread I haven’t baked but can almost smell.
I sit out there sometimes with tea, pretending I’m waiting for someone to bring me cannoli. No one does, but the moment still feels full.
My daughter laughs at my setup, but she gets it. We all need a little escape, even if it’s just ten feet from the laundry room.
So yes, I live in a basement. But I also live in Italy—at least for a few minutes a day. And that, my friend, is anything but dull.
