If you are a guy I am, of course, laughing at you. Rest assured there is nothing especially scandalous in the following post. I am simply showing my gender bias by assuming you will not be interested in what follows.

For quite a while I have longed for a red room. I’ve had two pink rooms, two white rooms, a green room,  a blue room–lovely all of them, but I wanted something warm and cozy and textured. For a while my room was painted tan with red accents. Then, this fall, my friend Elizabeth came up to visit  and I decided it was time to finally remodel my little space. We painted the walls and bookshelves and sorted my mountains of books and shoved furniture around like gorillas.

And, whadda ya know, I FINALLY have pictures!

It’s not fancy. Or even that hip or artsy. But it is really and truly me–me in that it fits me or I fit it or we fit together.

There are red flowers on the walls and my owls peer down so chubby and alert.

 There is a chair for reading and big red pillows filled with hope


 There is lots of room on the walls for my ever odd assortment of pictures and words.

And there is lots of pottery and nature come in.

And there is texture

And there is a spot for an old whiskey bottle and more pottery

And more texture.




It’s awkward and  mismatched and little cluttered

–just like me.