Monday, April 5, 2010
The nursery is my linen room most of the time. The ironing board is always set up and ready for ironing or for a suitcase for a small visitor. There's a vintage crib, a trundle bed, and florescent stars on the ceiling that glow when the lights go out. Vintage baby gowns hang as art around the room sometimes just waiting for a button or a mend. Maybe a ribbon. Nothing sweeter than hand-made baby things. Beautiful old bed and table linens often get stacked on every surface on ironing days, and I sometimes have to scramble to make the space ready for sharing on short notice. I love to start the day on some early mornings in the bright clear light of the east facing room by smoothing out wrinkles to the sound of birds singing and with the fragrance of fresh laundry scenting the air. Hours can pass before anything intrudes on the peace of thoughts to myself. I may not always have a baby or two to share a room with, but I'll probably always want to have a nursery. It's my ideal place for hatching plans, nursing ideas, and nurturing dreams.