I've shown you glimpses of the nursery before. I think the last time I did I said that this room was slated for change. And that's still true. But years pass like weeks used to these days, and we are so busy occupying all the space that there is little time for making changes.
This "spare" room is not a spare at all. I use it almost every day for shop business
or even just to fold the laundry. And we are lucky enough to have a steady stream of visitors as well.
It's a homely space where almost everything comes from thrift stores, The bedding, for instance, with its Popsicle colored hues.
The handmade afghan, which was brand new when I found it, and the quilt beneath.
The bed lamp.
A few keepsakes hang on the walls, like this needlepoint floral. They all have become imprinted on my granddaughters minds by now through a kind of domestic propaganda. "I wonder whatever happened to that?," they will someday say.
This is one of the few spots in the house that has a little color. Prairie Style pastels versus that of a pale and classic Shabby Chic. Not chic anything, actually.
The most humble treasures reside here. But I will probably want this little framed collage hanging over my bed when I draw my last breath.
It's a found object of ephemera assembled in an old frame behind glass. An old lace handkerchief for a backdrop. A darling girl looks out at center position, as though to the future, with faded photographs at her corners, and bits of victorian scrap for charm. It is a magical thing that has cast its spell within these walls for more than a decade.
The nails from previous arrangements often dictate the placement of things. The clock face went up when I was clearing the room for guests last week. Fresh laundry and a recent bedspread find occupy the chair. The old wood shutters were intended for the shop, but I can't quite part with them yet (if ever). They have stood here for most of a year.
A cheery apron waits for a few pocket stitches.
This framed print was once a page from a Brambly Hedge calendar. It is the actual style that I aim for. A homey hodge podge of collections that fall together as in a story book.
Minus the dustballs and cobwebs of real life, I think I inhabit these vaulted rooms in my dreams.
Someday my girls may have some other bits of wardrobe hanging from the door hooks.
They already make good use of the dressing screen when they visit, even though the dresses hanging there are many stages of childhood too small.
Although more lady-like garments are beginning to take up space too.
All but one of the fluffy nursery pals have been tucked away.
The toy houses with the suitcase of furnishings are now rarely dragged out from underneath the beds. (The former first order of business for youngsters arriving.)
Oh, the usual linen work goes on within these walls, as it likely always will. But there is an aura of suspense now inbued among the folds, and a sense of moments, weeks, and years unfolding in a blinding blink of time. And just a hint in the air of the need to ready ourselves for all the untold tales yet to come.
So we're down to the last week of February already! The willows are leafing, and the fruit blossoms have started to pop.
Hope it's been a great start of the week for you!