I’m a romantic, I can’t help it.
The sun rising in the morning, peaking through the trees, brings out the poet in me. This small room at the front of the house, I’ve named the “morning room.” Facing east, it enjoys bright sunshine for several hours. In winter, this is where I want to be with my tea, a book, and my dog. Originally, this room had a door and would probably have been referred to as a sitting room or a parlour.
Three years ago, when we moved in
a hodge-podge of furniture and books from various rooms in our last house ended up here. When Greg or the kids asked me where they should put the small grey chair, or the giant box of photos, or the clocks I’d inherited, I directed them here. Charming as the room was (and is), when dusting and cleaning all the shelves that first week, I discovered an alarming electrical burn the size of a dinner plate where the last owner had plugged in a stereo. This had me wanting to drink something stronger than tea.
my kids refuse to call it the “morning room”
probably because they think I’m being pretentious and inaccurate, since whenever they are home, regardless of the time of day, this is where they can be found- playing video games. Hardly the sort of parlour games the Victorians had in mind. Despite my dislike of charging cords and large TVs, we are a 21st century family living in a part 19th century, part 20th century house. Adjustments, such as built-in cabinetry, were made for the sanity of the previous lady of the house and I take full advantage. The boys can play in here, in the afternoon and evening, heads full of computer generated graphics, as long as I don’t have to look at anything but books and the sun when it’s my turn.
besides the sun, I needed color
All paint is by Benjamin Moore:
Carolina Gull for the trim, bookcases, and cabinetry
Grey Cashmere for the walls and Decorator’s White for the windows
it took a year and a half to paint because. . .
I painted the whole room myself
like a crazy person. But I find painting to be therapeutic and vaguely hypnotic.
And sometimes, if you’re a mother raising sons, you need to be hynotized.
greg and our oldest son built the daybed from paneling
and I sewed the roman shades. Purchased at the famed Brimfield Antique Show, the paneling cost less than $100. In a pinch, this room can double as a guest room. I found its original door in the barn and am considering re-installing it.
Greg got the clocks ticking in near-perfect synchronicity
Both clocks are from my father’s side of the family. The mantel clock is a New Haven Clock Company model owned by my recently immigrated Hungarian relatives in the 1920s. The model on the bottom is older and aptly named after its shape: bullet clock. My father remembers it sitting on a table in his German grandmother’s living room.
(The gentle dual-ticking of the clocks was soothing but the double chiming was a bit over the top.)
I love formal rooms that can adapt to a casual life.
Everything on the daybed is machine-washable cotton from the down-alternative pillow inserts to the ivory coverlet. Which means that only half of my dog’s hair shows after a morning of her curled beside me in the sun.