#grandmashouse

[zoneofwaiting]

This isn't just a photograph, it's the door to a familiar place we've, for some reason, never been. Cozy yet strangely unoccupied, as if everyone just left... or is yet to arrive.

[aad3ller]

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

everyone, go listen to grandmas house !!

˖ ࣪⊹ ִ ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ♰ ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ⊹ ִֶָ𓂅

[yarnclubknits]

Leigh finished the cutest gift of the season. To Grandma’s House is a reversible hoodie knit in @malabrigoyarn Rios. @malabrigowholesale #rios #malabrigorios #yarnclub #theyarnclub #grandmashouse #holidayknitting #knittingforkids #lys #virginiabeach #vbknits (at The Yarn Club) https://www.instagram.com/p/CXd_AmvrZfU/?utm_medium=tumblr

[calaverasred]

Part 1

Of my Grandma has the dream cottagecore home and garden

I think my most peacefull memories are here in this room and I still feel all my problems wash away when I step inside its green walls.

[chasingpagesquotes]

There's something special about a grandmother's house. You never forget how it smells.

Fredrik Backman, My Grandmother Asked me To Tell You She’s Sorry

[cottageykid]

Some mushrooms from a long lonely walk in the woods. The autumn colors and mushrooms were magnificent!

Psa! I did not touch any of these, nor pick them. Please don't do that if you are not with an expert on mushrooms because you could get ill!

[dreamscape-diary]

What I want most in life is to be that awesome grandma (or crazy aunt) that everyone would love. I would do all sorts of cool old lady things like...

Have a house that feels straight out of a fairy tale, with each room crowded with antiques and retro items, and every crevice will be filled up with plants.

Everytime you come over I will have made a grand dinner with homemade bread, cookies, cakes, pies, cider, and vegetables grown from my own garden.

I will send handwritten letters with little illustrations on them, or mail a package containing a little gift that might be a wooden toy, hand-crafted stuffie, or a random trinket that I found that could be worth a lot of money.

Relaxing and telling stories around a fireplace in my rocking chair, maybe using puppets or drawings to bring it to life, and my ancient ragdoll cat would be sleeping on my lap.

My backyard would have massive, ancient oak trees, weeping willows, and white birch trees. There would be a wild sprawling garden, a small pond and creek, and every surface would be overgrown with ivy and moss.

If you searched around you would find birdhouses and bird feeders, and the chirping of the birds would fill every corner of my property.

Sometimes the deer would wander in and we would feed them apples, which we picked from my espalier apple trees that I grew just right so that they would also function as my fence.

And every winter I will have made hot coco, warm sweaters, mittens, and fuzzy earmuffs for everyone I know.

[nightshift-cup-of-coffin]

The Red Lantern pt. 4

Lynn opened her eyes praying to see the ceiling fan. Instead, the man’s face was inches from hers. She lay in his arms a hollow caricature of herself one with the pile of bones. He let her down gently on a bed of reeds. Candles illuminated the man’s face as he lay her down. Still the smile set on his face. Looking down at her he let out a hopeful sigh, expression wistful. Moonlight stung Lynn’s eyes when the man moved out of her view. As soon as the light above blinded her it was blocked out as the man drew cloth over Lynn’s body.

Lynn’s eyes snapped open, she sat up nearly falling out of bed. The dream had felt too real for her. The end of her rope came, there was only one thing to do now, visit her O’ Bachan. Since she had been little the only person who ever made Lynn feel safe was her O’ Bachan. She had raised Lynn, accepted Lynn. Since moving too much time had passed in between the visits they shared.

It had crossed Lynn’s mind that all these odd occurrences were the result of living alone for the first time. Lynn laughed when her O’ Bachan had discussed living alone all those months ago. Her grandmother had always been proud of her culture; so, when the chance came to live in a predominantly Japanese/Asian community her grandmother chose to immerse herself. Lynn left her grandmother to grow old in comfort, from a short drive away.

The home smelled of fresh rice and laundry soap, a smell that wrapped Lynn in comfort. Her O’ Bachan sat drinking coffee pinning a new suit for Lynn. Lynn hugged her tight nearly taking out her own eye with her grandmother’s hair pin. Sitting down over dinner Lynn told her grandmother everything that had been going on. Her grandmother patted her lightly on the cheek “My Lynn-Lynn you are working too hard, you will stay with me for a bit.” Lynn made her bed on the floor next to her grandmother. It had been a dreamless dead sleep, one Lynn cherished after all that had happened.