On a road in our town – a populated, well-traveled country road – there is a house. At first glance, you barely see it. It hides behind a tangle of overgrown vines, trees and bushes. Then you realize what you’re really seeing. Amidst the yard strewn with debris, old dog houses, stuff – there is a house.

The porch is barely standing and is littered with old windows and doors.

You think: it must be abandoned. Yes, it had to be abandoned years ago and all of this overgrowth is a result of no one tending to it.  No one loving it.

It was a big country home at one time.  What happened?

There is a van in the front yard. The hatch is open in the back, as if someone is in the process of unloading groceries.  It’s been that way – open – as long as I’ve lived here.  Like something out of a movie where a town is suddenly abandoned, where time has stopped.

When I first moved here, I saw this place as I drove to our recycling center. I wondered about it, all the time assuming no one lived there. Then one day I saw her. She was walking around the side yard. A woman of indeterminate age – maybe in her 50’s…60’s? She had short hair, brownish in color. My first thought was that she must be someone trying to clean up the place. Maybe it was left to her?

My sightings of her were rare, but it didn’t take long before I realized that she lives there. This is her home. She’s not visiting. I can only imagine what it must be like inside. I think about it and stop myself. It’s best left unexamined.

My husband has never seen her. Every time we drive by he asks me if I really saw her. Yes. Several times.

Who is she? I don’t know. My friend tells me she’s lived there for years. Neighbors have offered to help, to clean up the yard. She wants none of it.

What is her story? How does she survive? Does she have electricity? Heat? I don’t see how any oil delivery truck could get close to the house. 

Clearly something is wrong. Does she have anyone to reach out, to care for her? Any family?

Every time I drive by, I ask these questions. What is her life like?

When I returned from San Diego in July, the front of the house was more overgrown than I had ever seen it.  It was as if the house had been swallowed up by a jungle. Then, one day, I saw that someone had cleared out a portion of the overgrowth – just enough to park a car.

There is so much mystery about this woman. Has she slipped through the cracks and become someone unreachable? I don’t even know her name.

I am reminded that she could be any one of us. There is a part of me that is solitary, almost hermit-like. If mental illness struck and I was alone…what would be my story? Would I cling to my home, while it slowly deteriorated? 

Is there a house like this in every town? It evokes the memory of Boo Radley’s house in To Kill a Mockingbird.  And I am reminded, once again, of what Atticus Finch says: that we never truly know what a person’s life is like until we walk around in their shoes.

Okay…by popular request:

This is the only photo where I deliberately allowed the cast to be visible. Since it was not very attractive, we covered it with a white nylon sock. Somewhat dainty foot on the left, huge prehistoric foot on the right.

And here is one of my favorite photos of us – right after we took our vows.

We each had a little gray hair, but you couldn’t really see it. Now – you can.

Welcome to my teeny, tiny studio! I took part in the first party a year ago and am thrilled to be taking part again. I am creating this post far from my home as I work in San Diego for 10 weeks, so I will be visiting my studio right along with you. Since I’ve been far from home since April, I can’t take updated photos. I will do my best to explain what has changed along the way.

My jaw drops in awe when I see some of the gorgeous, big spaces many bloggers have. And I would be telling a lie if I said I was perfectly happy with my space and had no need for a larger one. I will have one someday. (Just letting the Universe know.) In the meantime, I love my little space.

We live in a tiny two bedroom cottage. With two big dogs. The second bedroom became our guest room/office/music studio. Where in the world would I be able to create? One day, my husband and I had a light bulb moment: the upstairs hallway. Yep, that’s my studio. Let’s start the tour.

As far as I’m concerned, the studio starts with this window at the top of the stairs. I used a vintage dresser scarf to create the valance and clipped it onto a curtain rod.

At the top of the stairs, there is a little niche. I used to have an old trunk here. The day I realized that my sewing table would fit perfectly in this niche was the day the studio was born. I made the skirt from a Simply Shabby Chic shower curtain I had used when I was staying in San Diego last year. It’s attached with velcro – easy! That pretty fabric hides a lot of stuff.

As you face the sewing table, there is a little wall to the right. Photos are of my wedding day and of my brother and I visiting Santa Claus when we were kids, along with Mom and Dad.

I made a chalkboard for the kitchen last year. Since I had an extra board and left over paint, I thought I would make one for the studio. I drilled two holes in the top and hung it with twine. I write words that inspire my creativity.

Trims, lace, crochet, one of the hearts I make

Tools in a vintage McCoy Vase

My studio extends to the kitchen, where I work on my dollhouse. There just isn’t enough room in the studio. Where there’s a will, there’s a way!

Here is where I blog with my blogging partner, Scout.

So you see, you can take a tiny little alcove or a hallway or a closet and make it your creative space. You really can. I call this “My Happy Place.” Now, if it only had an air conditioner…

Thanks for stopping by! I can’t wait to see all the other wonderful creative spaces out there. Visit Karen’s blog My Desert Cottage to see more. Thanks, Karen!

I’m also linking to Pink Saturday.