You remember the disaster in my home office? You were convinced it was a hopeless situation, weren’t you.
Ta da! I found the floor!
It might not be worthy of a spot in Better Homes & Gardens or Design*Sponge, but it pleases me to walk into an orderly room with color-sensitive decor that didn’t cost me an arm and/or a leg.
Of course I use this space, so I needed to quickly photograph it before I started making messes again.
Truth is, I’m sitting at that desk, typing on that computer, which is side-by-side with my sewing machine and necessary gear nearby. I’ve set up the portable table that holds my supper soup (Mauri’s at rehearsal) and I’m listening to disc 4 of “The Good Son.” Like I said, I use this space.
We originally built this room to be a bedroom for Frank and Florence, my first in-laws, then just Florence, after Frank died. Florence died too, without ever knowing about our plan. So—the room became my office, nicknamed “the nerve center.” I understand the blessing I have in this “extra” room.
How many of you made something like this paint-by-number letter box for your mother? I was smarter than you; I bought the kit as a gift and let her do the painting. And look here, I get to have this continual reminder at my fingertips.
I don’t have any particular attachment to the fabric that dictates the color scheme. I bought it at IKEA long before we had one in Portland simply because I thought it was fun. It sat in a drawer for years after that.
This red CD player/radio doesn’t really fit the orange/green/yellow/blue/black/white scheme, but it’s way too cute to hide away, especially since it was a gift from a dear friend in Wisconsin.
The orange hair on this “figurine” was all it took to bring this favorite piece out of storage. Isn’t she beautiful?
Again, color dictates.
Sometimes simply moving decor from one place in the house to another makes it feel new, seen. No room for books between these bookends, but my decorating principle doesn’t require function over form in every instance.
A gift from my dear man, who early in our life together nick-named me Marvel, which has since become Marble or Marvella.
He gave me these maps too, which I kept at the church office until this get-organized project for the brilliance of their color.
I’d like a nickel for every hour I’ve stared at this relief map—dragged to Oregon on the truck from Michigan—dreaming of road trips. I do love my maps!
No room under my jurisdiction would be complete without goldfish. And that picture, recently published in Real Simple, caught my eye, not simply for its colors but that it looks just how I feel these days.
The frames on the liftable library shelves built by Mahlon, Mauri’s dad, hold some favorite series pics.
Our two-year birthdays, little Sharon (me) on the left, Maurice on the right.
Again, color brought out this frame made by Rachel for her pop. I chose an appropriate font to print that word I like so much onto transparency for the frame.
I could have gotten away with not showing you I still have work to do on this room. Just more crap collecting behind the door. Sigh. That description doesn’t include the picture of my beloved parents, taken on their 50th wedding anniversary and just a few months before Mother died, though I admit it’s hanging in a rather odd place.
Mauri just got home from rehearsal and Disc 5 is now finished. But before I leave you, I have to show you two purchases, one that came by delivery, one I bought at the chiropractors’ office. Check out the colors, neither of my own choosing!
Interestingly enough, orange is one of my two least favorite colors (along with purple). I believe it has chosen me!