Since we're going to eventually get to changing this space, I thought this was a good time to capture it the way it is now in preparation for true before and after. So, if you'll indulge me, here's a little tour. Wall 1: That's the view from my door. That's my bed. In the right hand corner, that little what-not shelf? It was my great-grandmother's. The mother says it was in their livingroom. Over in the left, on the other wall? That little framed picture is a silhouette of me that the mother had done. it's one of two. (You can't see the second one, or a third that I had done as a gift to her at age 25.)
Wall 2: Now we're inside. That's the view from my bed. Both the bed and this vanity were purchased at the now defunct Bombay Company. We loved that place! That photo in the round, gold frame? It's my great-great grandmother. She's the mother-in-law of the great-grandmother whose shelf is on the other wall. Just to her right, that's a photo of the mother around age 6. On the floor at the left is my pen collection. Just behind the door, that little dress ... remember my beautiful grandmother? That was hers. (It's beginning to occur to me that my room is a time capsule. About the same size as one, too.) Wall 3: This is the view from my bed. That's where most of my clothes -- in season -- live. Off to the right is that cabinet that passes as a closet that desperately needs to be organized. Outside the door, through that arch, goes into the livingroom. You can see the light coming in the front door. Oh, and that bed? I think you know who that belongs to ... Ozzie! Yup. Though he logs just as many hours in my bed as in his. During the week, he always starts out in his bed, but at about 4:30 every day, there he is, standing on his back legs, leaning against my bed, waiting to be picked up. On weekends though, I don't even bother putting him in his bed. That way, unless Toby decides to shatter the silence, I can usually sleep right through!
Wall 4: Next to my bed and just opposite the closet, is another piece of history. While it looked nothing at all like it does now, I received this doll house at age 8, from my beautiful grandmother. I lost interest in it a few years later but the mother took it on with a vengeance. It's done down to the most minute of details, both outside and in. I have to think there is something of an inspiration in it that led to This D*mn House.
In the immortal words of Porky Pig: "Bbbbp. bbbp, bbbp ... that's all folks!
Thanks for indulging me and coming along.