The Craft Room in the Sky

Today I stayed in my jammies and turned a basket full of stuff like this:


into a smallish bag full of stuff like this:


I won’t go into details about the project itself because it’s a gift, but while I was hauling the ironing board, iron, and cutting mat around, I got thinking…

When I grow up, I’d like to have a Craft Room. As of right now, this is my craft room:



I have a bag for my knitting stuff:


a bag for my current knitting project:



and about three tons of embroidery thread, patterns, quilting blocks, batting, and half-completed Christmas stockings upstairs. I don’t know that a dedicated Craft Room would make me craft more, but I imagine what a luxury it must be to leave a project in it’s unfinished state, out on a cabinet or desk.

My Grandma had a Craft Room. It was glorious and mysterious and smelled of cedar and oil paints. There were shelves upon shelves of yellow tackle boxes full of glitter, sequins, buttons, needles, thread…there were baskets of pine cones and dried leaves and gum drops. There were stacks of magazines and books, including the 1978 WorldBooks with the golden pages. A row of glass baby food jars held microscopic seed beads while a frumpy pile of rope for macramé lived in the corner. Photos of old women in horned-rimmed glasses smiled down from the walls, as if they were trying to tell me how to better mitre a corner of a quilt. There were boards holding paintings of owls and mice, corn husker dolls, and old water pumps. There was an easel, brushes, jars, half-used tubes of oil paints (the better for watching Bob Ross paint his happy little clouds…) next to the ancient and huge Christmas cactus by the window. It was a room of endless possibilities.

Also, if my cousins and I were caught in there without permission, it became a room of “you kids scoot!”.

I want a room where I can tell the kids to scoot. I want a room with squishy corners for reading and spacious counters for cutting. I want to see all my threads on the wall and never have to hide my Bernina.

…maybe when I grow up.

(side note: look! Glass knitting needles! Aren’t they cute?!! Got them on Etsy.)




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