I glimpse tiny flecks of dust reflecting the late afternoon sunlight as it shines through the open French doors. The faint hint of lavender scented beeswax, caught as a hand brushes the well loved oak desk. The welcoming smell of fresh bread baking in the oven, waiting for hungry children to return from school. I open the aged white armoire and run my fingers over the neatly stacked piles of vintage linen, admiring the shelves lined with delicately patterned old papers and edged in fine hand made lace. Trying to choose, amongst so many treasures, which crisp cottons to sleep on tonight.
Or at least that’s what happens in my other life. The one in the alternative reality that plays in my head, where I homeschool two angelic children who call me Mama (not Mum, or even Muuuummm), who embrace project based learning with glee and enthusiasm instead of rolled eyes, and home life is a haven of calm and vintage and handcrafted goodness. Yes, that life.
My real life involves, not a vintage armoire but, deep breath, THIS
Turmoil.. When opened you must play in your head the soundtrack to the shower scene in Psycho “waap, waap, waap” and prepare to battle unravelling sheets and blankets as they attempt to drag you in and eat you.
You think I jest.
But today the time came to fight back. To reclaim the turf. To tame the beasts that lived within.
It wasn’t pretty, there may even have been tears (mine) at one point. But. BUT. The beast is vanquished.
The airing cupboard isn’t the vintage armoire of my alternate reality. But it’ll do for now. 🙂