I’ve just moved the junk room around – giving up the desk the old iMac used to sit on so my other half can take it over with her sewing machine, in preparation for the local dance company show.
For the last several years she has made costumes for the shows – everything from fifty penguin hats, to a room full of flowing dresses. For the better part of a month our house turns into a production line – with patterns spread across floors, rolls of material here there and everywhere, and a sewing machine propped in the middle of it all.
At the moment the lounge is filled with decorative hair bands, and the clothes dryer is being used as a temporary hanger for autumn inspired shirts.
One of the biggest problems of having sewing projects all over the lounge and dining table is mealtimes – where we either have to move everything, or work around everything – sitting in various chairs around the room with meals on our laps.
So. My quiet bolt-hole in the corner of the house is no longer going to be my own. To be honest I’m not too fussed – I’ll just grab the old laptop and sit in the lounge. I bet the sewing projects still end up all over the lounge – AND the junk room – AND the kitchen.
I’m not getting rid of the iMac. Back at the start of the year when we ran out of money spectacularly, I thought about selling it – but it ended up being one of the few things I hung on to. Now I’m kind of glad I did. Maybe if I win the lottery I’ll build a shed in the garden, and turn it into a writing den. I bet the shed would eventually get taken from me too.
I’m starting to understand why some people sit in coffee shops to write. They obviously live a similar life to me – where no one corner of the house is their own – where no single hour is really truly their own. I’m not complaining – just making the observation.