MommyCoddle

I read a post today that Amanda had written about a favorite corner in her home, one where her children played and created; one filled with lots of memories. It has inspired the idea of ‘corners in my house’–a time to share special places in our homes that bring warm memories, favorite places  that make home a special place.
I loved the idea and decided to join in….so this afternoon when I took my camera downstairs to find my favorite places, I realized that I had just created a new one…
An old sewing table pushed against the wall, waiting to find a new location after some furniture rearranging; a beat-up stool purchased in college at  an auction in the middle of a field on the eastern shore; some brown craft paper, a jelly jar of water, some poster paint and a creative four year-old. The perfect nook for a little creativity.

Then, an hour later, the table had a new purpose–take away the paints and paper, add a red vintage step stool, a tray filled with peanut butter toast, apple juice in cups with straws and heart-shaped ice cubes, and a little sister. And now another favorite place is created.
(I know these pictures seem the same, but I love the details… in the first one, the conversation between the girls. Emma was explaining to Mary how to drink from a straw. In the second, I love Emma refilling their glasses with the pitcher from her play kitchen….so humor me for including both.)

There’s a growing ‘corners’ group here on flickr.

A poem from Dan about the present that I gave to him. I couldn’t resist posting it.   
Can you guess what the gift was?
(don’t strain too hard reading it, I rewrote it below)

Isolated islands, round circumference,
Lands of lettered and vast indifference,
That rise like steps sustained by stilts,
This structure by which all else is built.

Ten fingers make each lonely step unite,
Changing a quadrant once bare winter-white,
To a scape all full of an emptied head,
To a place that can sing or sob when read.

This archipelago, stone-still and quiet,
Waits for its change and steed-charge unsilent;
Then clickety-clack trot the keys on
This grand tool of composition.

If you haven’t figured it by now, I found Dan an old vintage typewriter in one of my favorite vintage shops. I’d been hiding it away since october, so tempted to give it to him early. But, I made it to the big Christmas Day reveal. He’s been doing a lot of writing lately and always talks about how neat it would be to work at an old typewriter. I have to admit, I didn’t see the draw at first–it’s loud, there’s no backspace button, little sheets of whiteout strips, flimsy typewriter paper, no save button, paper rolled crookedly into place. But after sitting down to a few sessions at the old keys, I can see the attraction. It slows you down, you think about each letter, each word, the perfect time to start a new line. The keys make such a rewarding sound with each press, the ding of the bell to remind you that you’re coming to the end. I find myself sitting down to type out a few words more often than I thought I would. I type my own name and work through the names of people in my family, or the lyrics to the song on the stereo, trying to keep some sort of rhythm with the bang of the keys.
I’m definitely thinking this was a good gift…
HOWEVER, I think I may have been outdone. Below is a picture of the typewriter sitting proudly on MY gift from Dan…a new dining room table that he made for me. I love it—the dark stain, the wide boards, the tapered legs, the character of the wood showing through. He even picked out the runner that is on top, for the perfect Christmas showing. You have to love a handy husband!

And finally this post wouldn’t be complete without revealing the best gift given to the girls. This dollhouse from plan toys has gotten lots of use since Christmas Day. Although Mary tends to throw some furniture around and play dolls on top of Emma’s head, it still has been great fun for them both.