When we bought our dining room table, we rearranged our living space so that, from the kitchen, you looked over the dining room and a small reading nook welcomed you when you stepped through the front door. This, of course, means that our living room moved into Room #4, the room that has been our bedroom, our laundry room, our closet, our junk room, the only room in the house that has been mostly untouched by our renovations.
On one hand, having a messy room is kind of freeing. The Husband’s golf clubs live in there, our ugly tubs of important papers fill one corner, and a bucket of random things with no other place sits under the window, taking up space. Once we close the door, the room is gone. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Except that when we do sit in there – which is often – it drives me just a little crazy. It’s ugly. We never got around to painting the walls, and since at least one of them is eventually coming down, hopefully next summer, I’m not sure I see the point in doing it now. The washer and dryer sit in the corner, waiting for walls to be built around them. In terms of relaxing, well… it’s not.
So, I decided to do something about it, even if that something is small. We have two Lack shelves from Ikea that we keep meaning to put up. We had them in our rental and loved them. But here, they sat in our back entryway and collected dust, just waiting. Finally, yesterday afternoon, with a burst of energy, I grabbed the drill, the level, and a pen and went at it.
What started like this,