When we reconfigured the rooms in the hotel, we knocked out some walls to make changes. My bedroom is a combination of two hotel rooms (HUGE! GINORMOUS!) My bathroom is “just” one hotel room. We turned one room into a linen closet, walk-in closet and my sewing room.
My sewing room faces the alley and gets light all day long–not strong sunlight, just nice clear sunshine. On that wall, I’ll have my mother’s sewing desk centered under the window. I have two 2-drawer file cabinets that go on that same wall but shoved all the way into the corner. The tabletop is going to be just a big chunk of plywood about 1/2 wider than the desk/file cabinets. I’ll staple some fabric and then cover that with beveled 1/4 glass.
I’ll run a tension rod with a pretty fabric gathered to give that ’40’s retro look…probably a companion fabric to whatever I have on the counter top. I’m going to hand baste two of the gazillion lace panels together so I have sunlight, but not a ton of it. The valance will go with the other fabrics.
I collect buttons, so Mike is going to put in custom shelves for their containers. There is a short wall at the end of the countertop that is just perfect–no pouring sun on that wall. I have a lot of my buttons in latte glasses but it is just abut impossible to find more that match, so he is going to build enough shelves for those glasses to slide right in (no dust). I’ve been collecting octagon glass jars with lids that pesto come in. It sounds like a lot of shelves, but I have a lot of buttons and it gives me great pleasure to have them all sorted. Many of my buttons were my grandmother’s and my mothers and my Grandma Martha’s—plus yard sales and ebay.
On the wall facing the window is a upper cabinet from a kitchen tear down. I bet it will get faux finsihed to match the rest of the woodwork in the house. Inside the the cutouts is space for little skinny curtain rods–again, a companion fabric to keep out dust. Where we live now, we have the original windows which are as leaky as a seive. A hundred years ago, houses weren’t built airtight because of the kind of heating used. The leaky windows protected the occupants from suffocating from the fireplaces and stoves.
It’s painted “No Panties Tuesday” which is sort of a light rose; same color as the bedroom. Think of a very light mauve and turn it into pink and that’s NPT. (Lisi went thru a no panites phase when she was about 2. She wouldn’t wear them. She’d tell me that Teacher Jenny has told her that it was No Panties Tuesday and that was that. She was also insistent that she was not sleeping in panties, either. Her hoo hoo needed to breathe. My mother was equally insistent that ittle girls who didn’t keep their modesty were destined for an unchaste life. Lisi was enough like my Mom to be totally immovable. No panties at night. No panties at school either. One day, she had on a little sundress and was standing at the fence, flipping her dress up over her head, hollering “woo woo!” Then she’d turn around and flash all of Olive Street “Woo Hoo!” One day, a conservative lady caught her and stopped at the preschool to let teacher jenny know that some little girl was flashing at the fence. Oddly, Jenny knew exactly who she was talking about. She called Lisi in from play time and she and the little old lady started to explain why little girls need to have panties on, especially when they were wearing a dress. Lisi was appalled. She was aghast and astounded. How on EARTH was this lady being a safe driver when she was driving DOWN. THE. STREET gawking around. Didn;t she know she was supposed to be WATCHING. THE. ROAD?
Gosh, I wish I had been there to see Lisi go toe to toe with a very proper little old lady. It must have been a hoot and a half.
So that’s where the color name “No Panties Tuesday” came from.