"D"ecorating or Why I don't bother

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.

"C"ourtesy

Courtesy... something that seems mostly lost in our society. People step in front of you to get through the door first, cut in front of you on the road, steal the parking place you were waiting for. Some don't speak to people they don't know and are not ashamed when they treat someone badly. It's a if they are the only person in the world that matters and should have their way in all things and places. I'm talking in generalities, of course. Which I probably shouldn't do.

I don't know why it is so hard for some people to hold a door open or help some elderly woman into the store, or carry his bags out of the store. Why can't we be more willing to speak to an elderly person that may be living alone and would like just a little kindness and conversation in the check out line and on the way to their car?

It takes but a moment to be kind to someone. To let them know that you actually see them. Acknowledge them. Comment on the great shoes, or shirt, or hair...even if that hair is green. That is pretty awesome that someone can express themselves that way. It doesn't mean they are a freaky serial killer.

In the children's organization at my church, we have a penny jar. The kids are supposed to do something kind and unexpected for someone during the week. The following Sunday they have to opportunity to share what they did, and put a penny in the jar for each act of kindness. They love it. They try to find things to do for someone else. All the pennies will be donated to Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake City during the pennies by the inch campaign. So not only are they looking for ways to be courteous, they are learning to be courteous, they are learning to be generous, to help others that are in need.

I loath shopping. It does not matter if it is for clothes, shoes or groceries. I.Do.Not.Like.It. It could have something to do with the fact that I would rather not leave my house, but thats another post entirely. I have found when I have to go shopping and I take the time to do some charitable act, a smile, a short conversation, being kind to the employee and saying their name, acknowledging they are a person, makes the shopping experience so much better. Sometimes people are a little shocked when you smile at them. But they will almost always smile back.

Stepping outside of ourself, reaching out to someone else, helping when help is needed without waiting for an invitation to do so, is an easy way to brighten your day. Courtesy and Charity can go hand in hand. Perhaps you need someone to be courteous to you. Perhaps you are in need of someone to acknowledge that you exist. If we do these things ourselves it will come back to us.

Karma... sometimes it can be a good thing.


Have you been a recipient of courtesy and kindness? Do you go out of your way to be courteous to others that cross your path?

We All Are "B"eautiful

Because I didn't figure out it was this time of the year until today... I will make both my A&B post in the same day. This is no small accomplishment, since I haven't written in a year.

We are all beautiful. No matter if you're young or old, thin or not so thin, tall or short, black, white, brown, red or green. No matter if you have straight hair, or curly hair or no hair at all, pink hair, blue hair, brown hair or blond hair. WE ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL.

When Curly was growing up, she was into the skater grunge look. She always wore big, baggy, black clothes, and had eggplant purple hair. Nothing girly. Ever. She was determined her daughter was not going to be defined by pink frills and would not be all girly with Barbie dolls, Disney Princesses and the like.

Dimples loves Princesses. Loves. Them. Her favorite color is pink then purple. Dresses she gets to chose herself are determined by if they are sparkly and how they look when she twirls in them. A pink, sparkly, twirly dress is the best thing in the world. She would wear dresses every minute of every day, if her mom would let her.

Her Grandpa told her a few months back she was his Princess. Later she said to me that she wasn't really a Princess. I explained that she was a Princess. That we are all Princesses because we are daughters of a Father that loves us and who is the King. Last night he wanted to do a Princess and the Pea experiment. He would put a pea under her bed and if she was a Princess the pea would turn into a ball sometime during the night. If not, it would still be there. Well... you know the outcome of that. She came running into my room, the ball raised high in the air, declaring, "I AM A PRINCESS, NANA, I AM A PRINCESS." We are not turning her into an insufferable, stuck up brat. We are helping her realize her Diving heritage.

Earlier today, she said we weren't Princesses today because we weren't wearing a dress. I pulled up picture of Princess Diana and Princess Kate wearing pants. Then picture of them in gowns with their crowns on their heads. I made it clear that Princesses wear pants. Once a Princess always a Princess, no matter what you are or are not wearing.

I recently read about how we are supposed to, or not supposed to greet and talk to little girls. The gist was when we greet them with, "What a pretty dress that is" or like I have with Dimples, "You look beautiful" that we are somehow teaching them it is all about how they look, making it all about their bodies, thereby creating issues for them in the future. We are supposed to ask them about what they are reading, or something.

A few days later saw video in which some kids decided to have Prom for all the Special Needs kids in the area. They hired cosmetologists to do their hair, boys and girls, this included haircuts for boys and girls and make-up for the girls. They gave them beautiful dresses and tuxes, no matter if they were wheel chair bound, low or high functioning. Companions, not based on gender, were assigned to them, to stay with them the entire evening. They hired limos to transport them all to prom for the dance. There they were greeted by the kids from the high schools, parents were there cheering, clapping and holding signs to greet them. They were behind red ropes and there was a red carpet for them to walk down. There were many press cameras and others taking photos. You could see on their faces and the way they waved at everyone that this would be the night of their lives.

I went back to the original post and reposted the video with the comment: "Sometimes we need to feel and be told, and know we are beautiful." These kids felt beautiful and handsome. They were Beautiful and Handsome At that moment they knew they were beautiful, not different. They had likely not had that chance before. They were important and beautiful enough that people were there to watch them walk into that building and take their pictures.They had likely not had that chance before.

It isn't a necessarily a sexist, insulting thing to have someone think and let you know that you are beautiful. Beautiful inside and out. We need to know we are beautiful. Even if you are the only one that tells yourself you are beautiful, it is true. We are all beautiful. I think that comes from being told in honest and non-vain ways while still little girls. Especially by our parents and grandparents. We are designed that way. Knowing we are a beautiful daughter of a King makes all the difference not only in how you feel but in how you present yourself to the world.


What do you do to feel like a Beautiful Princess?

"A"gency...You CAN Choose

Agency is an interesting thing. The right to choose. Choose what we want, what we want to do, what we don't want to do.

There are times in our lives where the Agency we have is limited in scope. That time of life where our Mom and Dad or your kids seem to control much of what we do. I had been known to tell my daughter that, "Our house isn't a Democracy, it is a theocracy and you don't have to right to make certain choices." Now... I know that isn't really true, well, maybe a little bit. But I am here to tell you that a 6 year old doesn't have the right to chose to fly off the roof and a 16 year old with a newly minted driver's license better not chose to drive 300 miles with her friends to go to the hot springs. Ever. I am much more lenient about agency with my Dimples than I ever was with Curly. I have learned that there is much less that will do permanent damage and what does damage her will generally heal just fine.

However... as someone who has crested and is well on the downside of the hill of life, I have come to realize we always have the ability to choose. Even as a little child we chose. We cannot always protect our children from bad choices any more than we can always protect ourselves from making them, though we can make their environment safer. Say, remove the ladder from the side of the house. No matter how many times I tell Dimples to stop moving around the dining room table hopping or rolling from one chair to another, she is going to keep doing it. Unless I tie her to the chair. She manages to fall off a chair every couple of weeks. Eventually she will figure out on her own it isn't a good idea.

What we can help them learn is the law of Consequences. Dimples is learning about the law of gravity every time she falls off of that blasted chair, it is a consequence to dancing around the table from chair to chair. Curly learned if she went somewhere she wasn't supposed to go (and I always found out...) the consequence was the loss of said driver's license for a while. Consequence will always follow action or inaction.

I have learned after much living and repenting, that there are always consequences. Good or bad, every time we exercise our right to choose, there is a resulting effect. For ourselves or for someone else. For our community, for our country. We may see it, we may not. It may be immediate, it may show up much later. Everything we do effects something or someone somewhere.

We received our Agency from a Father that loves us so much he will let us make the decision and fall off chairs. Now, maybe a split head requiring a trip to the emergency room to get stitches seems somehow different than making the decision to not follow the advice of a Prophet, but the scars left from some decisions could require painful repentance and sometimes carry a lifetime of regret. The repentance process our Father gave us is like us hugging the crying child who fell off the chair after you told them a hundred times they were going to hurt themselves. We have been told what to do and not do. Multiple times, by multiple people from multiple sources. Stop doing "whatever". You are going to hurt yourself. As well as the admonition to do 'this or that" and you will be able to make the good choice. But the Agency is ours. We can always choose. It is our God given right to learn the easy way or the hard way to be better and be more than we think we can be.

Sometimes you have to fall off a chair a few dozen times to understand the law of gravity completely, hopefully you don't need to go to the hospital because of it.


How do you help the young people in your life understand the gift of Agency?

Stones

Stones... Asking me to look for something every day to make me smile or see the joy in a month that gave little cause to smile or feel joy... in this, such a sad month for my family and me.

Cleaning...Stones

Having time to myself as Fish Whisperer takes Dimples off for the day, I use the time to clean the house. I would rather take a nap, read a book, play on the Internet... But I use the time to clean and scrub like I cannot when Dimples wants to "help" so badly and I hurry through the task as quick as I can.

Sharing...Stones

Dimples mooching ice cream from me after she finished her mothers.