For a few years I tried to make our guest room work as my sewing room. Everything was fine until some weary traveler stepped on a size 18 cross stitch needle or the time someone reached for an extra blanket and hundreds of two-inch squares showered down on them as they grabbed an almost ready to put together quilt project on the bookshelf, instead of the extra blanket on the shelf in the closet. The real problem was I couldn't find a place to put my sewing machine, so all sewing was done on the dining room table.
In a flash of inspiration I got rid of the beds. I decided guests could sleep on a blow up mattress on the floor (forgive me) and set about making a sewing room. It made sense, in theory. I spent more time sewing than having out of town guests sleep under my roof.
In real life there was a problem. My new sewing room was marriage threateningly close to our bedroom. Here I am with all my stuff within reach and I'm supposed to be quiet? I don't know about you, but with me creativity arrives as a noisy party girl. I sometimes wake up at 3 in the morning with the desire to create. Sometimes my creativity shows up around 9:30 p.m. and wants me to stay up most of the night. If I used my sewing machine I would wake up my husband. I also like to watch TV when I work - old movies, DIY stuff, anything, everything. This arrangement really limited what I could do. This arrangement was depressing. So I stopped sewing and creating and enjoying this wonderful part of me and just started putting things in my sewing room. Old magazines - I seem to remember they were headed for the recycle bin, but I decided they might come in handy some day and tossed them in the 'sewing room.' The same with some baskets I bought at an antique mall. I was going to use them as cute little packages for Christmas gifts... trouble is last year I couldn't find them. They were hidden behind an old television, a cardboard box that someday might come in handy... Things just started to pile up. Was I trying to bury my creativity?
Looking back I figure it was just my creative, noisy party girl trying to get my attention. Finally, after a year or so of this nonsense, I woke up.
Wish I could get those beds back.
There will be a happy ending here. I have been blessed with a storage room. In fact, the storage room was one of the reasons I liked this house. It's in the garage and we've used it to hold everything from Christmas decorations to our stuff to our friends' stuff ("Hey, I'm moving to the moon for a few years, can I store this in your garage?"). The trick is I'll have to find a place to store Christmas decorations and return several boxes and a few pieces of furniture to an assortment of friends... o.k., this may take a few weeks and a bit of planning. I love planning. It's like day dreaming with a notebook and pencil.
My new studio (that's right, I'll call it a studio - that may not do anything for you, but I'm impressed) is approximately 8' x 20' - I think I'm up to the challenge. Face it, I've watched two years of HGTV's House Hunters International. I've seen large families pay big money for an apartment in Paris with less floor space - I can do this. One window. One door. All I have to do is organize the garage, clean out the storage room, paint, bring in the furniture, install shelves, figure out if there is a clever way to hide the bright blue vacuum thingy in the storage room, and hang a picture or two. Light a candle, say a prayer ...
I can do this?
...to be continued....
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