The Sink Room

I love to have people in for visits and overnights. I tell them, "Overnight at the Newton's is a bit like camping." (mmm, I just need to say it. . .)

I arrived in New York on Friday while Abi and Nathaniel were hosting out of town guests; so I spent a night with Jeremy and Lucinda, on the hill in the big yellow house. I slept in the sink room.

I climbed the stairs with Lucinda and peeked in the doorway--windows and light, lace, a curved wooden bed frame, an arching lamp with a little table beside- and of course, a tiny sink at one end of the room, just right for washing up.

I think the sink room is perfect - well, not a perfect magazine kind of room. . .a lovely room in an old house, with vestiges of 12 children who filled it, grew up and went away.

I wonder if Lucinda is ever tempted to add a postscript, "Overnight at our place is a bit like camping."

(Really, friend, overnight at your place is lovely)