The Skinny Girls Club House
Without Prejudice
If I had all the time and money I would have a house built. It would be new but look like a Victorian or Federation house but not weatherboard, too cold. It would have to be brick therefore but with a tin roof and a bull nose verandah out front. The walk up would be lined with shrubs of lavender and the front garden would be English cottage style. Lots of trees for the shade and the beauty.
The verandah would be tiled in old hand painted tiles in muted shades of burgundy red and cobalt blue. And a swing, double seated and two overstuffed armchairs made from cord in Raspberry red. There would be a timber table small with an Aspidistra on the top and a rack underneath for old copies of English Women's Weekly and Home And Garden. Maybe a few American magazines on home decorating from the fifties, as I love that style, so retro, so nostalgic.
There would be a Hoya plant too, twisting its way around the verandah posts and old rugs, hand crocheted in squares. There would have to be one or two small dogs, one white English Bull Terrier with the long snout and perhaps a beagle, liver spotted. No cats as they are so disdainful and the dogs would probably kill them.
The front door would be timber at the bottom and lead lighted at the top and when the sun blazes down would form pools of coloured light on the honey timbered floors. Worn and old, not new and icy sheer slippy. The inner walls will be plastered in magnolia paint with high ceilings, wide skirting boards and ceiling roses around the lights with a pie crust fluting edge.
There will be a small fireplace in each room, even the kitchen but backed up with a gas furnace somewhere for instant warmth. The fires will be lit when the rooms are being readied for guests or when they are staying for a while on chilly evenings and mornings. No T. V. In the bedrooms but an older style radio sitting on the mantel beside an old timber mantle clock. Lots of deep dishes of pot pourri everywhere, smelling faintly of sun warmed lavender and rose.
There would be a high bed, brass of course, or iron, plain and spare. The beds covered in the softest down pillows and quilts, cashmere throw rugs in softest pastel colours. Some of the beds could be canopied and curtained so that the curtains can be drawn around the occupants. The floors will be honeyed timber with hand hooked rugs scattered around. Lots of lovely old polished furniture and a rocking chair and good lamps. So that each room is like it's own haven.
The lounge room will have a curved armchair of three seats and two club armchairs. There will be a big T.V. Screen affixed to one wall and in the corner a Coonara Heater that also has a fan and can heat the room from corner to corner. Etched glass double doors that can be opened into the courtyard garden outside for dining al fresco in the Summer.
The kitchen will be a large square room with a massive timber breakfast bar for preparation, a double sink and dishwasher. It will be an eat in kitchen with a scrubbed pine table and timber odd chairs painted in a different pastel shade, ice cream pastel colours of strawberry pink, powder blue, apple green and lemon yellow.
There will be a large frame hanging above the breakfast bar made from timber and saucepans and copper bottomed pans, implements in stainless steel will hang from it along side strings of garlic and drying herbs. The dishes will be stored on open shelves and get annoyingly covered in dust every so often. There will be a walk in pantry, a scullery, full of jars of preserves and jam. Tomatoes and peaches and bread and butter cucumbers.
There will be a roofed flagstoned verandah, pergola, out the back doors lined with terracotta pots of parsley and dill, chives and rosemary that when crushed with the fingers will give off pungent mouth watering scent and under the back tap will grow mint and violets in messy confusion.
The back garden will have twisting paths of old red brick and chickens strolling at times taking a cocky morning walk. A hand rigged washing line with wooden pegs that allows the clothes to dry in the sun and the air and the sweet perfume of jasmine that drapes over the side fence in a waterfall of white flowers, cascading down to the flagstones.
I can see it now, in my minds eye, waiting for me somewhere, not too far in the country for me to be bored but not too close to the metropolis that the sweet garden is dusted with car fumes and dust. And as the sun begins to lengthen the shadows the ladies and children who have been hurt and beaten will come.
Love Janette
If I had all the time and money I would have a house built. It would be new but look like a Victorian or Federation house but not weatherboard, too cold. It would have to be brick therefore but with a tin roof and a bull nose verandah out front. The walk up would be lined with shrubs of lavender and the front garden would be English cottage style. Lots of trees for the shade and the beauty.
The verandah would be tiled in old hand painted tiles in muted shades of burgundy red and cobalt blue. And a swing, double seated and two overstuffed armchairs made from cord in Raspberry red. There would be a timber table small with an Aspidistra on the top and a rack underneath for old copies of English Women's Weekly and Home And Garden. Maybe a few American magazines on home decorating from the fifties, as I love that style, so retro, so nostalgic.
There would be a Hoya plant too, twisting its way around the verandah posts and old rugs, hand crocheted in squares. There would have to be one or two small dogs, one white English Bull Terrier with the long snout and perhaps a beagle, liver spotted. No cats as they are so disdainful and the dogs would probably kill them.
The front door would be timber at the bottom and lead lighted at the top and when the sun blazes down would form pools of coloured light on the honey timbered floors. Worn and old, not new and icy sheer slippy. The inner walls will be plastered in magnolia paint with high ceilings, wide skirting boards and ceiling roses around the lights with a pie crust fluting edge.
There will be a small fireplace in each room, even the kitchen but backed up with a gas furnace somewhere for instant warmth. The fires will be lit when the rooms are being readied for guests or when they are staying for a while on chilly evenings and mornings. No T. V. In the bedrooms but an older style radio sitting on the mantel beside an old timber mantle clock. Lots of deep dishes of pot pourri everywhere, smelling faintly of sun warmed lavender and rose.
There would be a high bed, brass of course, or iron, plain and spare. The beds covered in the softest down pillows and quilts, cashmere throw rugs in softest pastel colours. Some of the beds could be canopied and curtained so that the curtains can be drawn around the occupants. The floors will be honeyed timber with hand hooked rugs scattered around. Lots of lovely old polished furniture and a rocking chair and good lamps. So that each room is like it's own haven.
The lounge room will have a curved armchair of three seats and two club armchairs. There will be a big T.V. Screen affixed to one wall and in the corner a Coonara Heater that also has a fan and can heat the room from corner to corner. Etched glass double doors that can be opened into the courtyard garden outside for dining al fresco in the Summer.
The kitchen will be a large square room with a massive timber breakfast bar for preparation, a double sink and dishwasher. It will be an eat in kitchen with a scrubbed pine table and timber odd chairs painted in a different pastel shade, ice cream pastel colours of strawberry pink, powder blue, apple green and lemon yellow.
There will be a large frame hanging above the breakfast bar made from timber and saucepans and copper bottomed pans, implements in stainless steel will hang from it along side strings of garlic and drying herbs. The dishes will be stored on open shelves and get annoyingly covered in dust every so often. There will be a walk in pantry, a scullery, full of jars of preserves and jam. Tomatoes and peaches and bread and butter cucumbers.
There will be a roofed flagstoned verandah, pergola, out the back doors lined with terracotta pots of parsley and dill, chives and rosemary that when crushed with the fingers will give off pungent mouth watering scent and under the back tap will grow mint and violets in messy confusion.
The back garden will have twisting paths of old red brick and chickens strolling at times taking a cocky morning walk. A hand rigged washing line with wooden pegs that allows the clothes to dry in the sun and the air and the sweet perfume of jasmine that drapes over the side fence in a waterfall of white flowers, cascading down to the flagstones.
I can see it now, in my minds eye, waiting for me somewhere, not too far in the country for me to be bored but not too close to the metropolis that the sweet garden is dusted with car fumes and dust. And as the sun begins to lengthen the shadows the ladies and children who have been hurt and beaten will come.
Love Janette
