I Want {Ed. 1}

Copyright Yael Wolfe

I want a new bed. Wide and cushy but supportive. With fluffy, warm white blankets and soft flannel sheets. With a wooden headboard - or maybe old-fashioned metal, like a turn of the century farmhouse.

I want furniture in my bedroom that fits my needs - shelves next to the bed that hold all my books, a little cupboard-style piece to hold the clothing that doesn’t fit in my tiny closet.

New homemade curtains to replace the ones I made for my old house in which I lived with my ex. I want curtains that don’t remind me of lying in bed next to him. Curtains that keep out the heat and light of summer, but aren’t the blackout fabrics that he preferred. Something light. White. Bright.

A piano. The one my mother wants to give me. The one I learned how to play when I was a little girl. Where will I put it? It doesn’t fit through the doors of my tiny house. But surely, there’s a way to make this little home echo with the sound of those beautiful strings.

A unit in the living room to hold all the odds and ends that I don’t want to look at anymore. The clutter that now stands on open, metal shelving, distracting me every time I walk into that room. I want a cupboard there, some shelving. Something to hide it all away in organized piles that I don’t have to look at.

Floating, wooden shelves to hold my tea pots.

A plan for my office space which has been half-empty since I moved into this house. I want a cozy space in which to work.