OPC'n
Puritan Board Doctor
Which is your favorite room and why?
Mine is my bedroom. I have a 1800's bed that is just beautifully made yet only cost a few hundred dollars. It has carvings on the head and foot board and encases my mattress completely. It is only a 3/4 bed which fits nicely into my small bedroom. My sheets are the softest sheets ever made. I came upon them by accident really. I spent the night at my sister's house when we had a bad snow storm. She gave me her bed to sleep on and I about died when I slept on her sheets. I asked her where she got them and her simple reply was, "From Mom". Well, they're are mine now was my reply. . She didn't care and so I am in ownership of the softest sheets ever made...they only made one pair, btw. I also have an antique dresser which matches my bed although I bought I it separately. It's small but does it's job. On my dresser I have a medium sized rock-nightlight which glows an amber hue. An "antiquish" night stand holds my lamp and clock at the head of my bed and an antique chair guards the foot of my bed off to the side. White lace curtains finish off the room. The best part of my room is my Pear Bartlett candle that truly does smell like the best pear ever....and I don't even like pears! I like my room so much I wrote a poem about it.
Familiar Voices
The evening is far spent as I lazily doze on my seventeenth century bed. My dresser reflects the ages of people unknown. My nightlight gives off the same orange hue as the sunset I just witnessed earlier which adds to the coziness of my tiny, antique room. My lace, sheer curtains blow gently in the breeze which finds its way in through the slat of my window...it's fresh. The crickets are singing for me. I smile as I hear southern speech drift into my room. My mother's voice carries in it the echos of generations before her. Laughter plays on her voice and she is soothing. I remember my grandmother. She too had that southern song which rang from her voice. Soon the song of my whole family plays in my head and I am back into my childhood days. The smells...the voices...the feelings...they are my memories that are so sweet in my mind. I love my familiar voices...may they live on into eternity.
Mine is my bedroom. I have a 1800's bed that is just beautifully made yet only cost a few hundred dollars. It has carvings on the head and foot board and encases my mattress completely. It is only a 3/4 bed which fits nicely into my small bedroom. My sheets are the softest sheets ever made. I came upon them by accident really. I spent the night at my sister's house when we had a bad snow storm. She gave me her bed to sleep on and I about died when I slept on her sheets. I asked her where she got them and her simple reply was, "From Mom". Well, they're are mine now was my reply. . She didn't care and so I am in ownership of the softest sheets ever made...they only made one pair, btw. I also have an antique dresser which matches my bed although I bought I it separately. It's small but does it's job. On my dresser I have a medium sized rock-nightlight which glows an amber hue. An "antiquish" night stand holds my lamp and clock at the head of my bed and an antique chair guards the foot of my bed off to the side. White lace curtains finish off the room. The best part of my room is my Pear Bartlett candle that truly does smell like the best pear ever....and I don't even like pears! I like my room so much I wrote a poem about it.
Familiar Voices
The evening is far spent as I lazily doze on my seventeenth century bed. My dresser reflects the ages of people unknown. My nightlight gives off the same orange hue as the sunset I just witnessed earlier which adds to the coziness of my tiny, antique room. My lace, sheer curtains blow gently in the breeze which finds its way in through the slat of my window...it's fresh. The crickets are singing for me. I smile as I hear southern speech drift into my room. My mother's voice carries in it the echos of generations before her. Laughter plays on her voice and she is soothing. I remember my grandmother. She too had that southern song which rang from her voice. Soon the song of my whole family plays in my head and I am back into my childhood days. The smells...the voices...the feelings...they are my memories that are so sweet in my mind. I love my familiar voices...may they live on into eternity.