Language of love

In ten days I will recite a vow and make a heart-felt promise to my beloved Cristy, witnessed by the members of our family and our closest friends. I will vow to travel the journey of my life with her, seeking that path and finding our way together. These words, our promises, will communicate the strong sense of love that we share and cherish.

Planning for this wedding has been an interesting project and as we get closer to the date, the activities we are involved with on a near-daily basis are steeped in minutae.

The wedding will be in our home, and we are transforming it from an already lovely residence into something even softer and sweeter. Swirling with pretty paper heart garlands and shining candle lanterns. Sprinkled with dozens of simple bouquets of flowers and greenery. In every way, the layers of detail that will form the backdrop for our wedding are an expression of who we are. These elements too, will communicate, more subtly, the gentle tenderness with which we move through our days and nights.

This combination of words and personal expression is indeed, the language of our love.

Homemade

2nd vein.

I’m turning into my mom. Part of me, anyway. Not the casino-slot-machine-diva part. The homemade-buttons-and-bows part. I know I’ve written a couple of blog entries about my foray into homemade things and craft projects. It’s a far cry from the way I would have envisioned spending my time if you had asked me ten years ago. But now it just seems genuine and personal.

Cristy brought home a little pot of daisies from the store last night. It is a welcome gift from a group of colleagues for a coworker returning to work after completing a treatment protocol for breast cancer. Cristy wanted it to be sweet and special, so I offered to make a little bow for the plant and thankfully, she agreed. In five minutes I had made a little bow out of cotton fabric layered alongside a smaller bow of raffia and string with a couple of beads attached to the ends of the string. I tied the bows to a little plastic card holder and anchored it into the soil. It doesn’t look spectacular, but it does look personal. It looks like this woman’s coworkers cared enough about her to make a homemade bow for the pretty potted daisies.

I will probably turn into one of those women who troll the clearance table at JoAnn’s, picking up remnants of lace, ribbon and pretty patterned fabrics to adorn greeting cards, packages and gifts of all sorts. Just a little touch to make them personal. That’s what my mom always did.

Scenes from the weekend

Plenty of activity punctuated by brief escapes to the yard, full of blooming plants. Projects included phase 2 of the photo gallery project (phase 1 picture at left), doggy-door barracade, candle-lantern groupings for the trees, making a birdbath, hanging a bird feeder, and adding storage hooks for the pool tools. Full agenda.

Thrifty

Wedding day is approaching and we are beginning to ask ourselves questions like, do we have enough glasses, plates, forks? Do we know exactly what else we need for decoration?

I was talking with my mom on the phone last night and she asked: what are you going to wear?

These are all good questions and there is not a clear answer to any. Yet.

I suspect we’re a little deficient on some of these items, so this morning I went to two of the thrift stores nearby to see what I could find, within a modest budget. I don’t make it a habit to go to thrift stores, but in the spirit of full disclosure, I don’t make it a habit to go to any store except for groceries and other consumable necessities. The point is, I don’t have much of a shopping habit and I have not developed the fine art of sniffing out the excellent values at thrift stores. (I have heard urban legends about such people.) My number one objective today was to get forks.

It was a moderately successful outing. For an investment of $30 I acquired a domed cake pedestal, a pretty assortment of knives and forks, and 4 pieces of stemware that just happen to match a pair of wine glasses we already have. However, I have a feeling that a few more trips to the thrift store will be in my immediate future because as satisfied as I am with these purchases, I simply did not get enough forks.

Seriously, there were literally buckets full of dinner knives, but a true scarcity of forks. Even though I was not planning to get any knives, I had to sift through hundreds to find the few forks that I did purchase, and along the way found some very pretty table knives.

My hypothesis about this is that forks disappear. True statement? In my own personal inventory, dinner knives are indeed the most plentiful. Spoons come in second and forks sadly lag behind in third place.

So when donations arrive to the thrift store (the inventory), knives are in greatest supply.

But consumer demand gobbles up the scarce supply of forks that happen to arrive.

Thus, a few more visits (to other) thrift stores will be required to satisfy my own demand for the upcoming wedding celebration.

Plus, if I focus on the forks for a short while longer, I won’t have to worry about what to wear. Yet.

Another weekend project

I asked if I could use her cordless drill and she said yes. I had high hopes of completing a little project on my own. I wanted to convert an unadorned vestibule in our home into a photo gallery. I had found some ledges on sale at Target and had plans to use these ledges as the basis of the photo gallery look I was seeking.

The plan seemed easy enough. Theoretically. Still, I was a little apprehensive. After all, I was about to drill some holes in our walls.

I got my supplies together: eyeglasses, snowman pencil, measuring tape, level, manual screwdriver and drill. When Cristy saw the snowman pencil she knew I was serious. She decided to evacuate to a place of relative safety where she would not have to observe my palpable nervousness.

I marked, measured, drilled and successfully hung the first ledge. I replicated the process exactly and hung the second. My confidence soared. Feeling that drill move the anchor into the dry wall was incredible. It felt secure. Why had I been so nervous? I would have this project knocked out in 10 minutes, tops.

Then there was a tiny bump in the road. The fittings for the third shelf didn’t match up with the anchors I had installed. Hmmm. I had done everything exactly like the previous two. I kept hoping for a miracle, trying to get the ledge to fit, badly marring the paint in the process. I was sweating.

I stepped out onto the back porch to admit my power tool deficiencies and solicit advice for proceeding. The first thing she said was: Isn’t hanging shelves fun?

No. It isn’t. I hate the bastards who invented shelves.

Plan B – install two new anchors a half inch over from the previous two. I measured the openings on the rear of the ledge again and verified that the measurement was not identical to the first two ledges. I needed to modify the distance between the anchors.

I don’t know whether it was my escalating panic or just a case of bad luck, but Plan B failed too. On to Plan C – half inch over in the other direction. Triple measure, mark, triple measure. Success.

Five more went up quickly after the setback. The gallery is far from complete, but the visual anchor is in place and the second round of photos will probably go up next weekend.

I need some recovery time.

On home decorating

My father was a veteran of the Korean War. A recent high school graduate, he served in the Air Force in the early 1950s. It was a time of his life about which I have almost no information. But I do have some mementos.

He apparently went to Tokyo once on R&R and that young American soldier took a shopping excursion. Completely out of character for the man I later knew as my dad: the one who preferred to avoid shopping and purchases of any kind.

I took possession of some of the fruits of that shopping trip almost 18 years ago after he died. One particular garment box that has been on the shelf of my closet all this time held two kimonos. One silk and one cotton. And a silk obi. I vaguely recalled the cotton kimono (actually, a yukata) because I remember him wearing it around the house on a couple of rare occasions as I was growing up.

In my ongoing quest to rid myself of possessions that are “stored” forever in boxes in the closet, I pulled out these kimonos last week. Besides the few times he wore them, they have probably not been out of the box since 1953.

As I opened the box, I immediately saw the cotton kimono’s cheerfully crisp navy blue and white ziggy-zaggy stripe pattern. Beneath was the silk kimono, a garment unfamiliar to me. I pulled it from the box to discover it was lined in white silk. The colors of the kimono were a somber olive and sandy brown. And the pattern was also somber: Japanese soldiers on foot, carrying caskets that held their deceased comrades.

I wondered why in the world my father had selected these two kimonos. More than likely, the shops that he visited were full of gorgeous silk kimonos in brilliant colors adorned with patterns of birds and blossoms. But then I remembered that he was purchasing the kimonos for himself, this young man of 20, not some hypothetical daughter who in sixty years' time would probably prefer flowers to coffins. So I honor it for what it is. And I decided to find a way to add this kimono to my daily life, something I could touch, see and enjoy in my home surroundings. I decided to make a pillow cover from this kimono fabric.

Because I did not want to immediately cut into the fabric of the main garment, I decided to detach one of the elongated sleeves, perfectly rectangular shaped, as the basis for the pillow. All I needed to do was pull apart the seam between the sleeve and armhole. My scissors cut the first thread in the lining and I nearly gasped in amazement – the garment was hand sewn. The stitches I cut were not made by machine. I continued snipping apart the stitches, imagining the needle in the hand of the person who sewed it, carefully crafted it into the lovely garment now before me on the kitchen table.

I sewed the sleeve back together as a pillow, using a hand needle and thread. I’d like to be able to say that I selected this process in reverence of the kimono’s original integrity. But the truth is, I don’t own a sewing machine. I only sew by hand. For about 3 hours on Sunday, I busied myself with this project. My pillow insert should arrive in a few days and I will place it among the collection of pillows that adds a touch of color, life and whimsy to our surroundings. This one will add more: a shade of toil, echoes of an ancient culture.

The more time I spend thinking about and pursuing the process of decorating our home, the more I am convinced that decorating is not about copying the elements from a picture of someone else’s house. At least not for me. It’s about arranging the things I possess with love and creativity. It’s about finding ways to maximize the use and beauty of everything.

Share the love

Many years ago I read something in the Ann Landers column about her participation in Valentines for Vets, a program that distributes valentine cards to patients in VA hospitals across the country. Apparently any kind of valentine was appreciated. I thought it sounded like a worthwhile effort and decided to give it a whirl with homemade valentines.

Perhaps I was remembering fondly the homemade Valentine’s Day boxes my mom helped me make for school, or some other homemade valentine lovely crafted from red paper, doilies and pink sugar hearts. The project of making the valentine was all about love and sharing that time with my mom.

I think I made about 12 valentines for the vets that year. Large format red paper with a white crepe ruffled edge, glitter painted greeting on the front and a hand-written note inside. The fact that I remember these valentines so clearly is significant proof that I loved that project, creating the pretty cards. I don’t remember anything else about Valentine’s Day that year, but I remember making those homemade cards and mailing them off to their destination.

So this year I think I am going to resurrect my creativity and assemble a few pretty valentine greetings, using the supplies I have at my disposal at home: ribbon, buttons, paper, elmer’s glue, pencil, fabric remnants, needle & thread. Surely the results of my efforts will be at least as good as any Valentine card I might find at the Hallmark store. But the big plus, is that it will again connect me to those precious valentines memories, expressing love through simple creative expression.

A trip to Hobby Lobby may be in order

While I am not terribly creative or crafty (as in homemade, not as in secretively clever), I do appreciate the benefit of investing in homemade projects to supplement home interior decorating. It can offer a completely individual look and save room in the budget for other priorities, such as repairing the garage door. Which we did. Today. With the help of an overhead door service team. Happily, it is now fixed.

But there was also room in the day to begin a few decorating projects. Two items are on the current agenda. Folding origami butterflies and making decorative book jackets. Sounds like a rainy-day project for a 4th grader, I know. The butterflies are pretty and there is a chance that they will fulfill my vision. We’ll see, I’ll need to do a little more folding before I know. In my opinion, origami has a better visual impact in a larger volume. I will need more than 8 or 9 folded butterflies to determine if I have a chance of achieving the look I desire.

But the book jackets have already captured my heart. I was originally inspired by Fullet, a book lover and inspired blogger who found a lovely illustrated paper book jacket for use on a new book. My homemade version features brown shipping paper as the wrapper for my old paperback books with a decorative printed paper stripe along the binding. The task of folding the book jackets, wrapping the books in brown paper, is very reminiscent of 4th grade.

Tomorrow and Monday (a state holiday) the projects will continue.

DIY wonderfulness

Before I started writing this blog, I browsed through a number of blogs without leaving comments. I’m not sure what that is called today. In a previous professional existence years ago, more than I care to admit, we would have called it lurking.

The kind of blogs I liked to read had a home interior decorating and design content theme. Most were produced by a content generating staff or were written by individuals who were professionals in that line of business. I still read them and they remain among my favorites. These days, I leave comments from time to time when particularly struck by a topic or item of interest.

I wish I could say that I have a flair for home and interior design, but I do not. In order to compensate for my lack of innate ability, I really pay attention to the folks who are in-the-know. And I’ve gained a little knowledge.

Well, not that much.

One of my favorite blog themes for decorating and design, and I’m pretty sure I’m not alone here, is the DIY: before & after. The kind of fabulous project that someone, just like me, accomplishes at home on their own, without a consultant, contractor or other design professional. Some of these blog posts are completely inspiring. I have taken a lesson or two and completed two or three of my own DIY projects. Not enough to start my own decorating blog, but had I taken some good photos of the before and after, they might (MIGHT) be comparable to similar projects that have been featured on said blogs.

Today, in a light-hearted attempt to remind myself that I’m not a professional, I present my latest DIY project. The homemade canine haircut. The subject is Jackie, my 14-year old mixed breed. Last Saturday, he was in dire need of a haircut. And he doesn't seem to mind the haircutting process. Much.

In the before image, we see Jackie with his nice fluffy fur. He had become a dog-hair shedding machine. Thus, the genesis of my DIY project.

And in the after image, the same dog, but with a choppy-chic new do. Hey, if Kate Gosslin can get the world's attention with a new hair-do....

Sorry Jackie, I promise it will grow back.

Some tasks are best left to the experts after all.

Holding in the luck

It was a quiet weekend. Good for doing some chores around the house. One of those chores, one that I don’t much care for, is the annual putting-away of the glorious Christmas decorations. I have so much fun getting them out and adding as much sparkle and glam to the house as possible, that their absence leaves me mildly depressed. I usually wait as long as possible for the putting-away task, but decided to get an early start, because there is just so much.

In exchange for putting away, I gave myself a little fun. I added some new things to admire in the house. Nothing quite so festive as the glittery holiday delights now resting in their boxes, but sweet, nonetheless.

First, was a horseshoe for luck. I gave it to Cristy as a housewarming gift. A used, antique horseshoe. It has a marvelous rusty patina and I hung it with an ordinary string over the back door. I’ve heard that you can either hang the horseshoe with the opening pointing up, to hold in the luck, or pointing down, to shower the luck down on those passing through the doorway. So, I left the choice up to Cristy. She said definitely up.

Next, I hung an antique key in the dining room. It is a large, ceremonial key, the kind that might be used in official “key-to-the-city” type presentations. I hung it suspended from a simple white ribbon over an antique print.

Third, I placed a clock over the kitchen pantry door. It is a simple clock, but easy to see from the kitchen table. Cristy likes clocks. As in, really likes clocks. She wants to know what time it is and have that information readily available with a mere glance in any direction. We have more than a few clocks in the house, but trust me, there is always room for more.

Last, I placed a decorative saucer on a easel in the living room next to some books. It was a gift from Cristy. She found it via Craigslist (I love CL!) and bought it from a couple who appeared to be in their seventies. They said the dish originally belonged to the woman’s grandmother. Cristy said the experience was a little surreal. They met in a parking lot of a Target, where the exchange went down. She handed over the cash and scored the dish. A true Miami Vice moment.

Hmmm. I wonder how many people actually even remember Miami Vice?

Mean people suck

I don’t like bullies. And by bully, I don’t mean a big kid who is threatening to beat me up if I don’t hand over my math homework. I’m talking about adults with aggressively strong personalities who communicate in a confrontational tone and manner. These people frighten me and they might as well be threatening to beat me up because that’s exactly how I feel when the conversation is over: like I just got knocked down.

I don’t do well in conflict situations to begin with, and I completely lose my ability to function if I am having a conflict with a bully. It happened today. I had this unfortunate encounter with a woman about 10 to 15 years older than I who owns the lighting store where we recently purchased two chandeliers. Cristy and I hired a man who does electrical contracting work on the side to install all of our light fixtures. It is convenient because he works on the weekend and she and I don’t have to take more time off work to meet him at the house.

The new chandeliers are for the foyer and kitchen. Cristy and our installer went to the store to pick up the boxes this morning and he started installing them. Unfortunately, when he took the foyer lantern out of the box, he walked over to tell me that he had some bad news – the chandelier was broken. He showed me where the problem was and we packed it back up so I could return it.

Later, I took the fixture back and immediately felt a chill spread through the room when I suggested that I’d like to exchange it. I waited for a while with my boxed up lantern and then a while longer when they took it to the “back” for their “guy” to inspect it. The bully, I mean, owner, approached me with a stern look on her face and I felt like I was about to get in trouble. She went on the attack immediately: who was my installer, what was his name, what was the name of his company, was he a licensed electrician? I stammered and tried to explain that he was a qualified electrician, but had another full time job. That was all the fuel she needed. He was incompetent! He twisted up all the wires when he tried to install it! It was going to take their “guy” a couple of days to repair the mess!

This didn’t make sense to me. I told her that my installer merely removed it from the box and did not even attempt to install it because he noticed the flaw. Didn’t matter what I said.

I was instructed to return on Monday or Tuesday to pick it up.

Then she walked away.

I walked out to my car feeling scared and ashamed.

The store called Cristy later in the afternoon to say that the repairs were complete and we could pick it up. I don’t feel good about going. I know, I’m such a wimp. I’ll get it another time. When I’m feeling less diminished. Mean people suck.

Racing to the finish line

Yes, the starting pistol has fired. You didn’t hear it? I heard it, but hit the snooze button once already and am about to tap it again. Holiday season! Dinners, family gatherings, traveling, parties, shopping, gift wrapping, decorating. Perhaps my favorite time of year, truth be told.

I know, I know, the accompanying stress associated with getting everything done (beautifully!) is so often a barrier to enjoyment.

Let’s see. Last year at this time, I was well on the road to completing almost all of my holiday shopping except for a small handful of personally selected gifts. Completing my Santa list turned out to be no trouble at all. In addition, Cristy and I hosted Thanksgiving dinner at her (old) house, I completed my seasonal decorating before the end of November, visited my mom in Oklahoma for 4 days, gave a pre-Christmas brunch at my (old) house for my small family and another little dinner party the following week for a handful of friends. Plus, Cristy and I attended several other family gatherings in celebration of the season. It was a busy time, but I managed to coast through it with almost no anxiety.

This year, I’m afraid I’m not going to be enjoying that coasting thing so much.

Decorating is going to be a challenge since unpacking and house arranging is not exactly complete. My gift giving inspiration has not yet arrived and I generally rely on a visitation from this muse to guide my projects and shopping. And much to my dismay, parties at our home may not be on the agenda this year.

So I will consider it my practice year. Yes, that’s it. I need one year to figure out how to decorate the house so it will look splendid. One year to get the chimney cleaned so we can actually use the fireplace for a cozy gathering at home. One year to somewhat recover from the chronic financial drain associated with moving, renovating, furnishing. What's that old saying about Carnegie Hall?

Don’t worry Santa, aah’ll be baahck.

Exhale

Prettily wrapped and tied nicely with a bow.

This phase of work is complete, crossed off our treacherously long to-do list, as we take a giant step closer to moving day. Over 2000 square feet of flooring has been replaced with tile and wood, their deep grounding colors a world apart from the previous incarnation, bland and essentially color-free. The fireplace surround, formerly a nondescript ceramic tile is now gorgeous polished granite. The stunning dining room chandelier, a reproduction design of a French antique, replaces the former plain-vanilla variety from the big-box home improvement store.

Two very significant projects still remain on the list. One is scheduled with a contractor for work early next week and the other Cristy and I are going to initiate ourselves.

Dozens of projects, less critical to our daily existence, both large and small in magnitude, will continue to vie for our time, attention and home improvement budget, but we will address each in turn. We will find opportunities to enrich our world and enhance the beauty of our home in many ways; each project a chance to express creativity, practice negotiating and build our nest together.

Today we stop for a minute to exhale, look around and smile. We are moving forward. Making this journey, together, is the experience that matters to us both.

DIY (postscript)

The chandelier project is nearly complete, but the results were not quite as expected. While I did meticulously follow the directions for the Valspar porcelain crackle effect product, no crackles appeared. None. What I do have, however, is a chandelier with a pretty painted finish - white with a grey patina. It will do fine for now.

Kudos to Lowe's for making the Valspar product return completely effortless. Easy, done.

Next up on the list of DIY projects is painting two cute little tables that will go in one of the guest rooms. Primer and first coat has already been applied to the first table. I wll begin sanding the second table this afternoon and look into replacing the drawer pull too.

And the countdown continues...9 days to go.

DIY for novices

I’m not particularly artistically inclined. But once in a while I am inspired to draw upon my artistic genetics. My mother is the talented one, so my theory is that some of those genetics must have been passed to me. Besides the fact that she was an accomplished artist earlier in her career, she is able to take a handful of acorns, some leftover ribbon, a couple of pine boughs and an artificial flower or two and create a beautiful door swag arrangement. Never ceases to amaze me.

Last year, just about this time, I found the inspiration to attempt a little project of my own. I decided to create some simple fall arrangements for the Thanksgiving table. I purchased some pretty supplies and invested many hours tending to this creative project. The outcome was underwhelming. But I laughed about it and put it behind me. Until now.

I am undertaking several DIY household decorating projects. My source of inspiration is not the house and garden network on cable, but the design*sponge blog. This blog regularly highlights the gorgeously successful outcomes of other people’s DIY home decorating projects. The photos make it look easy enough. I’m equipped with above-average intelligence, so how hard can it be, right?

First on the list is a chandelier refinishing project. Our house was built about 10 years ago and strangely, none of the earlier owners decided to alter the original décor. The builder-grade lighting fixtures installed in the 1990s that probably looked economical, but pretty enough then, now look down-right inexpensive and dated. Cristy and I had a vague vision for our dining room and I selected a new chandelier fixture for that room to replace the old one. The new one is gorgeous and it will look splendid. But we do not have the budget to purchase an equally splendid chandelier for the adjacent parlor. DIY to the rescue!

The old dining room chandelier is substantial, and nicely proportioned; its bright brass finish is dated and not exactly suited to our taste. So refinishing it for use in the parlor would be just the thing! On Saturday, I walked confidently into Lowes (for the 9th time that week) and described my “project” to one of the employees so she could direct me to all of the supplies I would need. Target look: antique porcelain finish. Way better than shiny brass.

Let’s see. I needed a 10-foot ladder, some spray-paint primer, 2 colors of latex paint, some crackle faux finish product, paint glazing product and a clear spray-gloss. Plus a drop-cloth, foam brushes and tape. Not exactly a low-cost project. But hey, we really needed the 10-foot ladder to change light bulbs and air filters anyway. Back at the house, I removed the chandelier, hung it in the garage, spread out the drop-cloth, taped up the light-bulb holders, cleaned the surface and applied primer to the metal. Step one complete.

Step two was Sunday’s task. Applied the latex paint base color coat. So far it looks ok, but this is going to take a while. I still need to apply the crackle product, glaze and spray gloss. Then I need to do something about the chain that suspends the chandelier from the ceiling. I guess this will be part-2 of the same project. Hopefully it will be finished by Friday when our lighting installer shows up.

The sweet side of moving

Another household move is approaching; it begins next Tuesday. There will be plenty of work involved with packing, carrying, loading, transporting and more carrying. But there are some truly nice things that I look forward to, interspersed with the work.

I am looking forward to selecting several patterns of pretty wrapping paper to use for lining cupboards, cabinets and shelves. I love the unexpected delight of opening a kitchen drawer or bathroom cabinet to find a beautifully patterned paper design peeking up from amidst the spoons, rolling pins or towels.

I am looking forward to organizing supplies in an assortment of bins and baskets, perhaps lined with some pretty cloth remnants given to me by a friend. Utility rooms can always use an added bit of cheer here and there.

I am looking forward to spray painting the two little tables I found via craigslist a nice crisp white. I might push the limits of my poorly developed sense of decorative inspiration and replace the drawer pulls with something simple, less formal.

Mostly, I am looking forward to being in the house and listening for the pace and rhythm of the energy there to give me clues to the unanswered decorating questions Cristy and I keep asking each other. I know the answers will come in time.

Finding King Arthur

Craigslist makes another appearance as a character in this diary. Through Craigslist, Cristy located the dining room table that we are going to purchase today, and in a few weeks, move into our new home. It is big and round and in its former life, was a conference table in a corporate financial office. When the firm consolidated and moved to New York, one of the employees astutely identified a narrow window of opportunity to claim that conference table, and she converted it into a grand dining room table for her home. Sadly for that family, but happily for us, their current home can no longer accommodate the table.

Circular tables are not commonly available in excess of 6-feet in diameter. This one, at 7 feet, is probably the largest table that our new dining room can comfortably hold. Our hope was primarily, to find a dining table that could seat as many guests as possible. And secondarily, we wanted to achieve this by leveraging tactics of thrifty economics, thus Craigslist.

Cristy particularly loves round tables because of the sense of unity among the diners. And possibly because of the subliminal link to Arthurian legend. While there are multiple stories, the version of the legend with which I am familiar introduces the table as a wedding gift from Guinevere’s father to the happy couple – his daughter and her new husband, Arthur. As with so many legends of Celtic origin, there is symbolic reference to the earth: its circular shape. And almost everyone is aware of the sense of unity that the round table instilled among the knights, who were apparently notorious for bickering with each other over position and relative prestige associated with more traditional seating arrangements.

Thankfully, in modern day dining rooms, there is no need for suits of armor, heavy swords, or dueling over a chair. But as an homage to the legend loved by so many, we will keep the beauty of the Arthurian spirit alive in our new home with the addition of this beautiful round table in our dining room.

Belongings

A few personal belongings still remaining in my old house. Over the course of the next couple of days, I will either pack or throw away all of these items. The things I keep will probably fit into one box.

There is nothing like the process of moving to provide a mental refresher of the inventory of your belongings. The quantity of my belongings have increased through the years as a consequence of natural inheritance: gifts from loved ones, passed along in life or after their death. Some of these possessions are special, but not entirely useful. For example, when my father was in high school, he took a wood-shop class one year and brought home all of the items he made in class. His mom dutifully kept them all. My grandmother died several years ago, but before she died, she gave me a large box full of my dad’s wood shop class projects and some family photo albums. I love the little wooden trinkets that my father made when he was 17, but in all honesty, they have little use and he, himself, forgot about them many years before he died.

My own mother, still alive, has given me a number of gifts through the years that were her own possessions as a young girl. I have a pretty porcelain piggy bank, a doll and some tiny ceramic figurines in the shape of skunks. (I don’t know the story behind that.) I also have a couple of sets of pillowcases that someone in my recent ancestry embroidered. I sleep on these pillowcases often and I love thinking that perhaps my great grandmother may have sat on her front porch embroidering these on peaceful summer evenings.

I evaluate my own belongings: clothing, dishes, books, art, jewelry, photographs, towels, shoes, furniture, mixing bowls. I wonder what will become of these belongings as I grow older? I do not have a daughter that might want my mother’s porcelain piggy bank or my amethyst earrings or the linen tablecloth that my grandmother cross-stitched. It is doubtful that my nephew will have much interest in the belongings that are so special to me now.

The pages of the calendar of my life continue to turn. As busy as I am or and as young as I feel, I continue to get older and my belongings move through the years along with me. With a renewed cognizance of the inventory of the stuff I am carrying with me, I hope to either incorporate infrequently used items into my life or discard them without guilt. With any luck, I will dig deep to find the ingenuity, stamina and wisdom to achieve this goal.

Decorating for dummies

Back on the home-selling / home-buying track, we stand at an estimated T-6 (days) until the first close transaction (aka, C1) and T-10 until C2. C1 will supply the funding to initiate several renovation projects in the house we are purchasing (C2), mainly flooring replacement. However, besides having available funding, the other prerequisite to beginning this work is the actual selection of the flooring material. Cristy and I have looked at wood and tile flooring exactly one time. I believe neither of us has had much success envisioning the desired results and we have had less success collaboratively assembling a vision.

We have some degree of concurrence that tile is a more durable product for our living requirements than natural stone. We also agree on a dark floor color preference. Beyond that, the options are wide open.

I went to Master Tile today at lunch to peruse the inventory. I initially identified 5 or 6 items of possible interest, looked at those tiles assembled in a larger grouping, and then narrowed my preferences to 3 or maybe 2. Probably 1 favorite. This is from a girl who generally likes everything. But I found that I immediately began to narrow my options by discarding choices predominantly composed of shades of beige, light brown, red or anything with a muddy color. Then I ruled out tiles with a lot of texture since I want the surface to be easy to keep clean.

My logic with the color narrowing may or may not be sound. My assumption is that the color of the floor will serve as a foundation for the remaining color palette of the house. I prefer to keep a cool-neutral palette (pale shades of grey, green, pink) and prefer to avoid warm-neutrals (beige, gold, orange). Without a professional decorator guiding the process, Cristy and I are on our own to select the foundation colors that will serve as the basis for our modest décor.

We are going to Master Tile tomorrow morning together. I will have the opportunity to evaluate my choices again on a new day and observe the colors and textures to which Cristy is drawn. I will have to try my best to avoid the temptation to promote my own selections first. My goal will be to keep an open mind and think about the products in terms of the larger context of scale and overall color compatibility.

Bargain hunter or hoarder?

There is a program on one of the cable networks that exploits, I mean, features the drama around the disorder of hoarding. Cristy has a tiny fascination with this program and I sometimes watch it with her. We have both seen hoarding situations ourselves that were not yet as out-of-control as those featured on the program.

It is sometimes hard to throw things away. When you look at the item, it still appears to be useful, although it may not be candidate for use at the moment. Still, why send something perfectly useful to a landfill? My standby solution to this predicament has always been to carry it out to the edge of my front sidewalk. Generally in 60 minutes or less (sometimes 10 minutes or less), a curious passer-by will stop, examine the item and upon discovering its potential usefulness, carry it home.

It is the same concept as a rummage sale, but there is no work involved on my part.

The popular website, Craigslist, is the 21st century answer to the garage sale. I love Craigslist. I have sold several items and also used the Free Stuff section to find new homes for “specialty” items that would be difficult for a casual passer-by to identify if it was simply placed out in the free-stuff location on my front sidewalk.

It leaves me to ponder whether people who pick up discarded junk, I mean stuff, are hoarders or bargain conscious?

This question applies to me, too. Today, I purchased my first couple of items via Craigslist: two little tables for a guest bedroom, $40. I will need to spray paint them white to give them a crisp finish (they will look so adorable!), but the fact remains that I have enthusiastically joined the legions of people interested in other people’s stuff. And I’m willing to pay money for it.

The experience only serves to whet my appetite for future potential bargains that might be lurking on Craigslist. Am I merely an astute bargain hunter going for the shabby chic decorating look or am I dangerously close to venturing into hoarding territory? Only time will tell.