It’s January and cold – in Washington these days the thermometer rarely tops 32° and sinks to 22° – making me long for our usual winter 42° and appreciate house and heat.
This month I try to turn my attention to the house, clearing Christmas, which stops looking jolly and becomes clutter (except the tree, those lights are still so welcome). And January also invites more organizing, seeking comfort and cheer from order.
But in numerous ways I avoid those tasks. Although this year, I happily reboxed Christmas on January 6, energized after reading about the Irish tradition of “Women’s Little Christmas,” the old, but still observed celebration of the women (and surely now men), who worked so hard to make the holidays for their families.
A more typical stalling maneuver is to look at books about houses, including a Christmas present, Ben Pentreath’s “English Houses,” a beautiful book full of photos of loved houses that creak with tilted floors and worn Turkey rugs. Pentreath introduced a room new to me, the “snug,” a tiny room with books and fireplace looking just like the word. (I discovered while writing this that Pentreath writes a blog about his life in Dorset: http://www.pentreath-hall.com/inspiration/).
And this January I miss “Red House West” – may it return soon! I did see a Pin from the blog’s proprietors of an imaginative under-the-stairs bed, cozily curtained off. And I began thinking about how certain house elements, sunny French windows, odd but comfy chairs, deep window sills, long pine tables make me stare at a photo and want to be there.
Leanne Shapton, an illustrator I admire, said she processes life by employing series and repetition in her work. Maira Kalman does that too. And an artist, Debbie George, I discovered while painting teacups last November, paints antique teacups and flowers one lovely image after another.
January lets such thoughts string together into a project. So, I’m going to look for little moments in rooms that make a difference – quirks, rumples, using houses I know or photos from books or the Internet. Done up doesn’t always do it, but personal often does.
And I can start with this little poem that William Morris had embroidered around the top of his four-poster bed:
The wind’s on the wold
And the night is a-cold
And Thames runs chill
Twixt mead and hill,
But kind and dear
Is the old house here,
And my heart is warm
Midst winter’s harm…
That’s the idea!
her spirits rose... 
Surely you know about the Landmark Trust properties in the United Kingdom. Their website is SO juicy for those of us who drool over houses both quaint and quirky. We have friends who have rented several of these properties when visiting in Britain, and have found them to be always comfortable and (with enough friends along to split the bill) surprisingly affordable. The table is laid for tea when your party arrives, and provisions for a “cuppa” are set out. The rest of the cooking is up to you. Great fun!
Oh boy oh boy I am going to look at that pronto! Thanks Bonny!
Perfect. Each week I feel the same and am so thankful.
Thank you Sara! I forgot to link it when I posted and I’ve fixed it now, but here is Debbie George’s website: http://www.debbiegeorge.co.uk/
Beautiful!!!
Thank you dear Jane!
What a lovely post!
Carolyn
Thankso much Carolyn! Houses live on and on in my mind – I still think of yours – I remember being so excited to see it, glad you’re still there.
What a wonderful bed! And I look forward to the fruits of your search for the “little moments” in rooms. I never tire of looking at pictures of homes – especially homes that are loved and lived in. And I always feel so lucky to be able to “spy” on these homes through print and, now, the internet. Thanks for all your suggestions of blogs and artists and books. They brighten my day. xoxo
I know what you mean about those special elements in houses — I have always longed for a window seat. comfortable enough to stretch out on and read.
With your view, how wonderful that would be!