Life in a Little House - The Write Space is My Right Place April 07 2016
Over six years ago, Travis and I moved into a little house with our two little girls. It was a sweet home with good bones and a warm vibe in a gorgeous Unesco heritage town where two harbours anchor a hilly grid of colourful blocks like a box of fresh crayolas. Lunenburg is dotted all over with charming homes and inns, galleries, museums, unique boutiques, coffee shops and hourly postcard worthy vignettes. Lunenburgers (new arrivals and settler’s descendants alike) all seem to possess a craft or creative talent, whether it provides them with a means of living or simply a productive passing of time. If you can’t find your creative mojo here in Lunenburg, you should consider calling off the search because living here is beyond inspirational.
Bit by bit, we have been changing this little home. With creativity and resourcefulness (some may call that a tiny budget!), we have been tearing down and building up and changing, adding and subtracting and colouring. I say “bit by bit” because we have been doing this as our little girls grew and we added two more square feet (another baby girl) to the dusting of dolls and drywall plaster. Our convenient average family of four became a logistically trickier family of five and along with that came more beds, more bicycles, more snowsuits, bigger shoes and greater needs in a still little house. We have shifted the home to suit our needs, or rather, our childrens’ needs. Walls have come down and closets have been built up, play spaces created and workshops converted and each one of these little additions or take aways becomes my new favourite space, even if it isn’t technically my space.
My newest favourite space in our home is this cozy cubby, nestled perfectly between customized his and hers closets in our master bedroom. It is a place just for me, a peaceful space to sit, think, write, plan, color, read, or simply drink coffee completely untethered. Sometimes I use it as my own timeout space, which is fitting since its creation started with a tantrum.
It was one those days. My girls couldn’t stop bickering, the laundry was mounting, the dishes were piled, cooking supper was a nightmare, and I had not even gone to the bathroom once without interruption. I felt like Miss Hannigan from one of my favourite movies Annie. I was dripping in little girls. Out of nowhere I threw a mommy tantrum. It was a minor meltdown, but obviously a successful one.
I cried, "I just want a little space, somewhere that's mine, only mine. I want a place where nobody can throw their Lego or their dirty laundry. I want somewhere to write."
And that night after bedtime, Travis cobbled a beautiful, perfectly pointed writing table from bits and bobs in his workshop. The next day he picked up a quart of paint for the wall, and the day after that I made some curtains. I gathered some of my favourite little things laying around the house and BOOM! My Write Space was born.
I love this little nook. It is a retreat and it is filled with things made by our own hands, given to us by family and friends, or treasures scooped up from local yard sales.
Admittedly, my literary masterpiece has not come pouring out yet, but it will. And for now, this little space is free from clutter, free from Lego, free from tutus and tapshoes, free from laundry and any other remnants of my mom life. It's my space, my write space, my creative workshop. It's all mine.
At some point, we will move on from our little lovely house. My space will become another’s space, and that person will make it just right too. I envision it as a meditation space, or a reading nook with a big comfy chair and a side table filled with Giller prize winning novels, or perhaps it will return to its original glory with an armless rocker for breastfeeding a newborn just like it did when we first moved here. If these walls could talk, they'd tell many stories. Maybe I will create them myself, right here.