Wednesday, 1 February 2012

Houselight, Winterlight

Working at the top of the house in the Garret is very important to me in the winter.  The Garret is subdivided into the Slum and the Pigsty.  The Slum is (naturally) where we do our Slumbering, and the Badger’s adjacent study has drifted into the appellation ‘the Pigsty’(can’t think why).

All the pictures below were taken at the same time on the same day with the same camera setting.  It interests me how different in the light as I move through the house. 

The Slum faces south and has two roof windows, so it's always full of light reflecting up off the sea, even at this dark time of the year.  

The smaller Pigsty is also light, but faces north so the light (and the room) is colder.  On that side of the house the Badger sometimes needs a little heater on beside him as he works there, even when the slum is quite warm.

And then the stairs lead down from the Garret into the Dark. 

It really does get very gloomy as one descends into the house on a winter morning. You can see the piles of things we've been sorting out for the charity shop, waiting to go at the top of the stairs!

I’m so glad we have the window Alice made for the light that shines through from the bathroom. 

Downstairs the passageway is almost dark.  

If we are expecting visitors I turn the electric light on.

The front room faces north and the light is distinctly frigid before midday. When we light the stove, that room comes alive.  It's a wonderful summer room, as it's always cool and shady, very restful in the heat.

The morning light fills the back room, but in this season that can still be decidedly bleak; these pictures were taken on a dark, overcast day - on a bright day this room is gloriously sunny.

The kitchen is lovely in the morning – as you can see, Joe has finished the floor!

 But, how glad I am of the Garret, the lightest place of all!


365 Day 32 (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, see here)

This was a BIG thing to go!  It hung in the passageway next to the hooks where we hang our outdoor coats.  Most of us (in our household) feel unnerved by continual encounters with our passing selves.  We appreciate the need to check for spinach lingering between the teeth before we hit the street, but prefer that to be done in looking glasses tucked into modest corners.  That mirror was undeniably in-your-face, and not improved by said face being in it, looking right back at ya!  Goodbye and good riddance.


Linda said...

I am so lucky my room that I do spend time in has a very large tall window with side lights. Facing north, which is south (we are back the front down under).

Pen Wilcock said...

The oppositeness of Australia is a source of wonder I never get over. x

Donna said...

I have enough trouble with the oppositeness of The North. I mean, a beach faces South (by which I mean the equator, obviously). That's why it's sunny and people flock to it. How can you have a North-facing beach? I mean, I suppose it's still sunny, seeing as how it's (probably) not covered in skyscrapers or anything. But still, the sun would be facing in the wrong direction. Everyone would have to sunbathe with their heads pointing downwards and their backs to the sea. *sigh* Can you tell how well-travelled I am?

Pen Wilcock said...

Not to mention sunscreen and BBQs on the beach on Christmas day . . . ain't natural . . .