Our upstairs 'tower room' does not have a real closet.
No, instead, it has a dark cave, a loooong, black cubby space that you can crawl into and hide boxes--boxes of stuff which you never look at. Boxes which mice could chew up into dust and you'd probably never even notice.
And well, our tower room is a guest room which is no good if it has no closet.
So I made one.
And if you were trying with all your might to figure out what in the world this is a picture of, well, now you know. It's our guest room closet, made out of an old pot rack which once hung, painted black, in our kitchen. But I painted it pink, and then hung a gold double-hook hanger just below it. Clothes can be hung from all these hooks by hangers or just by their necks. (And as I iron, I hang our clothes there, too, before putting them away.)
And voila! Our guest room now has a closet.
Long ago I learned that instead of just complaining about what I don't have, I should, instead, try to make it.
The worst thing I can do is to, instead, mope around home, murmuring and whining about not having what I need. God is always there to help me find what I need--but I can only hear Him when my dreadful complaining isn't drowning out His helpful voice.
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