Tumble Inn

So, recently after the monthly Where Bloggers Live, Just Like Home –  and I thought of something kinda related.  Checked and don’t see where I’ve posted before about this…

But, it’s about my childhood ‘playroom/playhouse’ at the Old House.  It was one of the smaller bedrooms (turned storage, then turned into MY room) off the living room.  I named it “Tumble Inn” – I’m sure I had a reason, but don’t remember what it was.  I think I chose that name because you kinda ‘tumbled’ into it and we had stayed at an “inn” when we visited my Dad in New Orleans on one of his Navy leaves (I’ll have to write about that story one day).

My Dad made me the sign.  I learned to print long before 1st grade as I wrote my ‘Daddy’ a letter every day during WWII, so the very ornate lettering is mine (from MANY years ago) 🙂

The room had one window looking out onto a small back porch.  My Dad made me a long, low table and I had a chair that just fit that table.  I can remember doing lots of ‘crafts’ there.  I know I painted some plates – who knows what happened to them.  Don’t remember what else I did in there – but it was MY room.  Even my grandparents had to ask permission to enter. 🙂

The sign was rescued out of the house before it burned and now hangs over my largest guest room door.

Sweet memories!