birds in a barrel's mission is to release creative nonfiction into the wild.

40 Days & 40 Writes is its first project.

The Blue Room

Most girls growing up in the 1950's would have objected to having a blue bedroom. I never thought about it until now. The room was blue when we moved into the house at One Grove Place in 1953. It was my room alone until two years later when my sister was born. Until I went to college I shared the room, two twin beds with my sister Darlene. It was a room with a view, a corner room, overlooking a wooded area with a dilapidated barn. My mother called the wood "the lots." I liked my blue bedroom. It was the place of my childhood dreams; the room when I played dolls and board games with my sister. It's where we switched heads to change our doll's outfits. It's also where I had my desk which after college turned into my art studio. My blue bedroom was my launch pad. It is where I discovered myself and my dreams. I never longed for a pink bedroom. I never lamented that I was not frilly pink. I hid things under my mattress that I didn't want my mother to know about. It was safer than a bank vault. Even when she changed the sheets, she couldn't have known about the pages I had written between the box spring and the mattress. When I was 8 years old my mother bought a dryer which came with with a premium, two electric blankets. I was thrilled to have one of these modern devices to keep me warm. It was thin with a bulky dial but keep me toasty in the winter months in our old house. One night when my mother did one of her early morning checks on her daughters, my blanket coils were aglow...

 

 

Bedroom