In too many years to count, I’ve had a re-occurring dream where I would open a door within my house and discovered a room I had yet to occupy. The dream was always the same. My heart fluttered at the site of this ancient place.
The room was old and worn. There were no freshly painted walls, of some realtor vanilla; rather, they were tattered and tired, as if it was once occupied by another being, abandoned after being bored.
The lightly crusted walls left a faint feeling of love. Yes, the space had once been loved; I could feel it. But it’s been a while. I also could hear the voices of those who spent time in the room. They were happy voices. Vines hung from the ceiling; the floor was crunchy and brown. There was some light in the room, but I couldn’t tell from where it came; perhaps it was covered by vines.
Often, I would fantasize about a room of my own, taking my re-occuring dream and reliving it in the light of day. Virginia Woolf wanted A Room of One’s Own and I wanted one too. Even when I wrote about design techniques, I would use the Garden House as an example.
There were many things holding me back. I had to first recognize the room of my own was not within the house; rather, it was a house within the garden. I will dub her — The Garden House.
Several years ago, I reviewed Debra Prinzing’s book Stylish Sheds and Elegant Hideaways. My review included a description of what my room would look like. This room has been wrapped around my mind, heart, and dreams for far too long, it seemed more of a premonition than just a dream.
About 10 years ago, I sequestered a natural area of our half acre lot for the children’s play set. At the time, my three kids were 1, 2, and 5 years old.
For about a year now, the kids have been done with their play set. They tell me it’s time for me to have a room of my own. Happy of course, I mapped out the space for my Garden House and a place to one day also add chickens. I’ve now found the perfect house, (Market Imports in Raleigh, NC), so I’m all set. But then those pesky emotions started in.
I’m not often stymied by such emotions, well maybe I’m a bit sentimental. Most often, I can reason through the emotions with, this was their life then, they have moved on to other interests, and the like. But as I pulled back on the sledge hammer to begin the dismantle, I got a little choked up. There were so many years of fun on this play set. The cousins, neighbors, play dates.
For hours after dark, particularly, by the light of the low voltage lights, added to the oak tree looking down at the play set. This, of course, was by design to extend many hours of play. My husband and the kids made up a game called swing ball, where he would throw the ball a the kids feet as they were swinging. Even the neighborhood friends could be heard laughing and giggling along side of mine saying, Me next, me next.
The play set had a fort area that served as a teahouse, a place for picnics, as well as, a place to acquire bruised knees and skeeter bites. During the winter, we would make a fire near the play set, gather, and make ‘smores. We had it down. It became our routine.
Today, my oldest child is too busy reading her books to care about the play set and the younger two, affectionally known as the babies, only pass by the play set to get to their bikes from the shed. They are done with it. It’s time to move on.
I was able to get past my emotions when it dawned on me that the play set will, in part, be used in the Garden House. Pieces of wood will
serve as the footing. And maybe more in the form of a bench or shelf.
As I laid out the dimensions of the Garden House, with some pieces of recycled wood, I noticed the remains of many summer paint projects, they were lightly crusted, with a faint feeling of love. I could hear the voices of those who use to spend time in this room. There were limbs with branches as thin as vines hanging over my head, blocking my light; as I moved around, the brown mulch crunched under my feet. Then I realized, I was standing in my dream. I was living my dream. It was then that I knew it was time for me to have a room of my own.
Post script – In anticipation of this week’s delivery, I cleared out the new area and laid out where the Garden Houses will go. I had to take down a weeping cherry tree and move 3 blueberry bushes. The bench will be moved to the area behind the Garden House and will be apart of the future design. In the meantime, most of the play set remains. I think I need to gather the kids to say our good byes, while toasting ‘smores.
This is a week of transition. From my babies to tweens; from dreams to reality.
Helen Yoest is a garden writer, speaker and garden coach through her business Gardening with Confidence™.
























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