This rickety old shed has too much potential to just house rakes and gardening gloves. I see wallpaper, curtains, shabby furniture, and an antique cookstove. Even a loft upstairs like the Ingalls sisters slept in while their parents talked about serious things beneath them. I have my work cut out for me however.
Notice the wood pile to the left of the window.
Apparently it had been there a while judging from the slant of the floor boards. My mind was racing. The place became an old abandoned cabin in the woods, and I was sweeping all the dust and cobwebs out to make it livable; putting on a pot of coffee and enjoying the rustic life.
The job was exciting. Just like when I was little and I would ask if I could have a space; in the attic at the cottage, or in a bedroom closet, or upstairs in the garage. It didn’t matter what it would become, just that it was all mine. And I could do whatever I wanted with it. We made dozens of forts when I was a kid. Nothing more than a place to take a bagged lunch, a place to bring friends, a place to plan things. The Cinderella play was dreamt up above the garage. Invitations were delivered to the entire elementary school, including the principal, and by the cars parked out front, it looked like that many showed up. My mother seemed a little overwhelmed. I probably hadn’t told her what we were up to. But she kept the popcorn and Kool-aid flowing. There was not enough seating in the driveway for all the patrons, but I am pretty sure the principal got one.
The shed hasn’t taken shape yet. For now, it’s just cleaner. But my wheels are turning, and in time, who knows what it will become.
I think this broom has been out here since the 50’s! I swear we had one of these when I was a kid. Till next time…