We live in a fairly small, fairly magnolia, two-bed flat, and have recently come to accept the fact that there is very little chance that we're ever going to be able to own somewhere. Images of myself in a tea dress and brogues, wielding a sledgehammer, while knocking down walls and drinking tea (an odd mixture, but hey, this is my dream), have finally disappeared, and been replaced by a lifetime of other-peoples-rules. So far in our rental lifetime, we've been pretty lucky with landlords - we've had the 'we-don't-care-as-long-as-it's-all-restored-before-you-leave' type, which has meant that we've been able to put up shelves and pictures until we're blue in the face. Almost a year and a half after we arrived, our lounge is starting to look something like the room I had pictured when we viewed the property on our first visit....
As you probably know by now, I am the proud owner of one toddler, who was only just over a year old when we initially moved in. My grabby handed little investigative monkey meant that keeping any craft equipment, art supplies, or machines of any kind in the lounge was an absolute no-no - but now he is nearing the age of three, and no longer shows any interest in any of my things, instead choosing to build garages from bricks and pretend the arm of the sofa is a horse. Which means, that I can finally have a little crafty area in the corner of the room, all to myself, hurrah!
A year and a half after we move in, I am pleased to present to you..... my lounge!
I love it, I really do. I love how it gets the late afternoon and evening sun, so we sit watching television or reading bathed in light. I love how it manages to be both cosy and tidy. I love the fact that nothing matches, and that I always look forward to collapsing on the little sofa at the end of a busy day. At the moment, I am sitting on that very same sofa, typing this and talking to my lovely Twitter friends (you know who you are!), with my feet on the footstool (which desperately needs covering), and a cup of tea on the table next to me. Obviously I'm wearing a beautiful vintage dress and my hair is immaculate. I most certainly am not wearing the Husbands jumper and some old tracksuit bottoms.... ahem.