I knew this was going to be my new home, and I knew this was my new office.
I visualized the fucking shit out of this office.
I visualized myself sitting where I am sitting as I type this, with a fire burning in the fireplace (which there is) as I look out the window into the woods (which I am).
Here’s what it looked like that first time. There was snow on the ground and the cabin-y feel of the room (even though I was seriously anti-pine paneling initially) was warm and cozy.At first I pictured a white, bright, super feminine office. I was going to cover everything in white paint.
But after painting a few million square feet of the world’s darkest, roughest, and hardest to paint, super brown paneling from hell down on the bottom floor of the house, I decided to embrace my inner pine paneling.
I loved this room so much I slept in here on a mattress on the floor the night after we closed.
I set up my grandmother’s dining room table as my desk, and I had my laptop and whatever I needed to be able to work, and I got the FUCK out of the house I’d been living in with my ex-husband for the entire duration of the fifteen month divorce process (and then two more months living together after it was finalized).
I had to get into my own space.
And when I did, it was MAGICAL.
Slowly but surely the office has been evolving.
And this, from the other side, behind the desk.
I had planned to make this corner my reading corner and surround myself with plants.
But I had also learned I was receiving a gift.
A very good friend of mine, Kelly, who owns a furniture refinishing business called Hi Valley Home and who is extremely talented – seriously check out her stuff!!! – was giving me a desk that she had refinished. She wanted me to have a new desk for my new office.
But it was being shipped from Canada.
That’s not cheap.
So all the amazing women in E-School chipped in to pay to have it shipped to my house, and after several COVID-related delays, the desk finally arrived this past Wednesday.
Here’s a picture of my awesome new desk:
But the desk has a story.
Kelly got the desk from a woman who owned a shop, and she was closing it due to COVID. She was getting rid of the desk and she sold it to Kelly for $20.
The woman used this desk as her office desk, and it was built by her father-in-law.
Her was a master carpenter.
A master carpenter who was captured by the Russians during WWII when he was 17 and spent the duration of the war as a prisoner.
His skill as a carpenter kept him alive.
And my desk was built by him.
That’s a pretty cool story.
Anyway, the desk arrived in the back of a truck being driven by a Canadian husband and wife who do this kind of thing for a living. And the husband, in shorts and flip flops 😂, got that thing out of the truck and (with the help of my dad) into my house, and now it’s in my new office.
But there was a problem.
I didn’t want to get rid of my grandmother’s dining room table. The one I’d been using as my desk.
I wanted to keep it. But I didn’t have a great place to put it.
Then my mom made a suggestion.
And this corner went from this:
And my desk area went from this:
Originally I kind of wanted to keep this room kid-free, but after moving my g-ma’s table to its new spot, I like this view:
Now it’s a family office.
And it was built piece by piece and bit-by-bit by my family and my friends.
All the important people in my life are a part of this office.
Good things have already happened here in this room.
And I know with 100% certainty that GREAT things are not too far off.