When we first moved into our house, my sewing room was up on the second floor in what should have been a 4th bedroom but it was never walled off from the master bedroom. I sewed when I could, but could not when SH was sleeping. First my daughter and then my son moved from their tiny bedrooms into our half finished basement complete with drywall, berber carpet, finished celing with lights and heat. When my son was ready to move out to his first apt, I was devistated. He and I are very close (he is the one who shares my love and talent of sewing/quilting) My DH got mad at me because I was in tears while he was packing his things and told me that my son thought I was mad at him. So, I bucked up and went down in the basement to help him pack. We laughed, cried and reminisced. All of a sudden my son asked me what I was doing--when I said what do you mean? He told me that I had been looking around and measuring the space. He said he thought it would be a great idea to move my sewing room down there and he came back for 3 weekends to help me clean the carpet, paint and move all my furniture and stuff down. It is funny, but I feel close to him when I am down there.