Decorating. The very word brings a level of angst to my soul you cannot even imagine. Whether it is in the HGTV sense of the word, or the changing of decorations inside the home for every season or holiday including Groundhog Day.
I have friends and acquaintances who have lovely homes. They are beautiful. They Decorate. Their sofa matches their carpet and drapes. Their dishes match their sofa. The art on their walls is tasteful and matches the dishes. Their wall of family photos is arranged in chronological order by child. Their children are always neat and tidy and match the wall of fame. The bathroom looks as if it is never used. The bedrooms are all color coordinated in each individual room. Their plants are thriving and blooming inside and their garden is a thing to behold. The lawn is well manicured, green until it snows and they never have to say, "Stay off the grass in the back, the dog poop needs to be picked up."
I on the other hand, shudder at decorating. My eyes glaze over and I can't remember what colors go with what.
Where we live, nobody waters their lawn, if they can be called that. They say grass is supposed to be brown in August in Montana. When we first moved here, him was sort of taking care of it until one of the neighbors asked him if he would stop watering because it was making their yard look worse than it really was. When someone asked him if he was going to plant a garden that year, him replied, "No. I don't even like growing grass." So following the request not to water the lawn means not only is our back yard primarily a repository for dog poop, him only has to mow about 4 times in the summer, so him is good with the no watering idea.
I have some coordinated Corell dishes. 4 of them, with two sizes of bowls to match. I used to have some Pfaltzgraff dishes, but they live in a box now because they were not only heavy, they weren't really microwave safe being heavy stoneware and all. I also have some beautiful dishes I got in Asia. Two sets of them. They don't match each other. They live in the china hutch to be used rarely because him doesn't want one to get broken since there is no way we can replace it. This is one danger of decorating. The fear of breaking something.
I have a living room set that matches. It is something we picked up in Indonesia when we lived there. It is beautiful. Carved wood all over each piece. It has black fabric that is similar in pile to velvet. Metallic red, orange, green, blue, and gold threads are shot through creating a subtle floral pattern. I loved this furniture when I lived in Indonesia. But it is formal living room furniture, it isn't suitable for sitting on for very long. You have to be 4' tall for it to be comfortable because it is a narrow seat. Indonesians are generally pretty small as a people, so it is perfect for them. You can't sleep on it, nor hook your feet over the back when you are reading because of all that carved wood. And there is no matching that unless you have black or white curtains. That furniture finally lives in him's cave in the basement. One of the chairs to this coordinated set lives in the un-formal living room. Dimples calls it her "Castle Chair" at three and a half, it fits her perfectly.
My bedroom has a comforter on the bed that has a seam coming apart in one corner after I got so bold as to wash it. I will get around to stitching it closed one day. Every morning when we get out of bed I take two red train blankets and cover the top third of the bed, making sure the pillows are covered. The bottom two thirds is covered by a blue and grey afghan. None of which match the red, green and brown plaid comforter. It does however keep the 70# standard poodle's dirty feet and butt off my pillows or out of my bed completely when he decides to dig his nest to sleep in. So it doesn't match anything but I don't have to be squiged every time I get into my bed.
Dimples has a bed in my craft room, half of my craft room now lives in my office and office closet. The closet and office are organized, but the closet doesn't have visible floor space any more. The up side to this, it is I no longer have to go into the craft room to get anything. Since most of what I used all the time is right beside my chair. Silver lining and all that.
Christmas puts me into a mild coma. Him brings in the Christmas decorations then goes out to the front porch to hang a few strings of lights on top of each other. I get to put up the tree, hang the decorations and slap a few things around on flat surfaces. Then I am free to start dreading taking it all down and putting it away. I have seriously considered glueing all the ornaments to their respective ornament hangers then glueing all the ornament hangers to the tree. That way all I have to do it unfold the branches and viola! The tree is done. I could leave my snowmen and Santas out all year because I do love them. The best Christmases for me was when we lived in Indonesia, a Muslim country and couldn't get decorations. I have a friend who leaves her large Christmas tree up all year. She hangs different ornaments on it depending on the holiday or season. It looks lovely, but I cannot imagine changing pictures and sit around things that need to be dusted with every holiday or change of season.
Our pictures are up willy nilly. I like where they are. One of my favorite batik prints is half covered by the new TV. I will take it down as soon as I can figure out where I can put it. I have Batik, an appliqué quilt of a fish on another wall. There is a picture of my Savior, a cross stitch angel, batik masks and an oil painting we bought from a man painting and selling them in a campground. All in the same room. I know it sounds hideous, but for me it works.
I like to call my decorating style, "Early Attic, or Early Basement." Him and I have been married for 32 years, and I still have pieces my mom and dad gave me when I was a single mom 35 years ago and had nothing. My house is clean, except for the mud, dirt and rocks dog brings in nearly every day... sometimes I close my eyes when I go into the kitchen so I don't see it, so it may sit there for a day or so. Nobody else in this house seems to see it either, so I'm good. We have lived with dirt roads nearly all our married life. My rule for dust is, "If you write in it or run your fingers through it, you dust it." If everything has the same layer of dust on it, it isn't that noticeable. I dust when we are having company. When shopping for new carpet I have two criteria. It needs to be the color of the dirt in my yard or the color of my dog if it sheds. This isn't a problem with dog, he doesn't shed. That leaves the color of dirt. I lucked out when we bought this house, it matches the dirt perfectly when dog brings it in with him.
I would live to have a HGTV home. I would. But I don't want that as much as I don't want to dust all those accessories. Miss Manners said, "Every home needs to have some child's atrocities in it somewhere. If you don't have a child of your own, get some of those atrocities from a friend's child." I have Dimples 'art' hanging all over my fridge. I have things my daughter made in school 25 years ago. I have beautiful dragons mixed in with a 100 day clock and stone eggs. I'm sure I will be one of those old ladies that have shelves packed up with stuff looking like a shelf in a second hand shop. But I love every piece. This is the kind of home I have. Not design by design, but design by accident. If I love something, I get it and then try to find a place to put it, whether it matches anything or not. My home reflects the things I love. The trips we have taken. The memories we have made.
My home is clean, but not spotless. I don't come unglued if mud gets brought in or you don't take off your shoes. It is comfortable. It is safe. I hope every one that comes into my home feels comfortable and safe. I want people to know they can put their feet on the sofa. I admire those that have the completely spotless, coordinated, beautiful homes. I sometimes get a little envious. But I love my home, those who live in it, and those is visit it.
Are you a design by design or a design by accident kind of person.
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