This messy corner is my work studio, carved from the already limited living space in my teeny farmhouse. My family is very generous about stepping around my project piles and mostly refraining from comment about all the piles of yarn and half-completed projects that litter every surface in this room.
I love that wooden desk chair. That baby was $1 at a yard sale. Can you believe that? It swivels! It reclines! One of my very best finds, for sure.
I’m desperate for an IKEA. The nearest one is five hours away, so I am planning a pilgrimage. As soon as the snow melts, I’m hooking up the trailer and heading down there, ready to experience the wonder that is affordable Scandinavian design, permeated with the smell of cinnamon rolls. I am so ready. I need a bunch of shelving, as you can easily see. What a mess, right?
Until I took over this room, I was trying to be as productive as possible while storing the sewing machine in the closet and stashing the fabric in a dresser in the garage and stuffing the yarn into plastic bins. I drove myself crazy, knowing I had black snaps or that perfect button or a 1/4” red gingham, knowing it was in a box somewhere, but it was raining or snowing, or maybe it was just cold outside, or maybe I’d rummaged through all the boxes and couldn’t find it and now it’s taken me an hour of searching already, and I’m too mad to bother.
I’d get the machine set up on the kitchen table and my ironing board all out and ready to go, and then it’d be time to clear it all away and make dinner. So frustrating. You all know what I mean.
It is a wonderful thing to have a dedicated work area. I have a ton of ideas.