[caption id="attachment_726" align="alignright" width="300" caption="My wall of mementos."]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/20110105_1.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-726" title="20110105_1" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/20110105_1-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a>[/caption]

My halls have been decked.

Or is it my walls?

Whatever. My office -- my own personal <em>sanctum sanctorum</em> -- had the walls decorated today with the photographs, souvenirs and mementos I have accumulated in 61 years on the planet and nearly 30 as a journalist.

The wall pictured is dominated by two things -- my autographed jersey of the greatest athlete I ever covered and the license plate that was on my Celica during the five years I was a newspaper columnist. There are also pictures and posters of beaches in Southern California, Hawaii and Tahiti and my dance hall plaque from Texas.

To the right are photos of Dodger Stadium and Houston's Minute Maid Park, a photo of my old friend Walter Masterson and a plaque of the best award I ever won.

In the shadow box along with the license plate are passes from some of the best events I covered -- the 1985 World Series, the 1985 Final Four, , a Rose Bowl, a Peach Bowl, the 1980 Democratic Convention and a few other odds and ends.

I've got 32 pictures of the people I love on another wall, as well as my case containing a dozen autographed baseballs, including names like Mickey Mantle, Ted Williams, Joe Dimaggio, Duke Snider, Johnny Bench and others.

[caption id="attachment_727" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="My wall of photos, etc."]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/20110105_3.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-727" title="20110105_3" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/20110105_3-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a>[/caption]

Of course there's my TV -- our old one, a 37-inch Toshiba -- and my Blu-Ray player, and my cabinets below that hold all sorts of other stuff.

It's weird to have almost everything that's mine except for my clothes in this one small room, but it's definitely a nice feeling to have a room that is <em>mine</em>.

It's also sort of a strange feeling to have my desk in the center of the room. It means that the wires for my computer, the printer and my desk lamp have to come across the floor from the outlet on the side, but they're in a place where I don't have to walk -- or trip -- over them.

Our house really is shaping up.

It's going to be a wonderful place to spend the rest of our lives.