I had always harbored a dream of having my own quiet place to read and write and imagine. A dream that was pretty far-fetched for me, being the youngest of five sisters. Because girls are not always quiet creatures.
In fact, they're kind of loud.
One day, my wonderfully encouraging parents sat me down and told me something had dawned upon them; that introverts need their own space, and writers need a quiet place to write. Hence, a writing shed was born and christened Walden. It was a thrilling day for me. I could bore you with details of how it was built, the way it smells, how my heroic father managed to get a sturdy table through it's narrow door; but instead I will try to tell you through photos. My hope is that you'll be just as enchanted with it as I.
Let's take a look inside, shall we?
These bookshelves? I built them. And then my dad came home, shook his head, and built them again. It was a very lengthy and amusing process.
Ariel view of my desk.
(Every writer needs a typewriter. Even in the 21st century.)
This is my desk. It's like a little piece of poetry & flowers & eggless cupcakes and everything else that makes my heart sing.
After the bookshelf episode, my Dad handled this reading bench alone. (Although I stained the wood!)
Well, thanks for taking a look around my beautiful haven (even though this post is later than promised!) I hope it strikes an imaginative little fire in your chest. It does for me, every time I open those doors.
*I'm not very good at keeping secrets. I've thrown my own surprise party for two years in a row.
