There are few things I enjoy more than puttering around my house, tidying it up here, hanging something new on the wall there. Aside from wife and mother (and grandmother!), I think homemaker is the vocation that speaks to my heart the loudest. I love working on any kind of project that will make my home more beautiful, orderly, functional, warm, cozy, and inviting.
I was talking to my daughter-in-law Regina (wife of son #1) a few years ago ago about minimalism, which is a home decor style that has become rather popular, and how we both agree that there are definitely things about living more simply that appeal to us...but that we really don't think the minimalist mindset works for the way we like to live and the homes we like to make for our families. (Full disclosure: I only remember this long-ago conversation because I just found a rough draft in my archives, which I never published; and what I had started to write about back then fits in with what I want to say now...so I copied and pasted, then edited, some of that old never-seen post right here. #cheating)
Anyway, Regina mentioned a blog post she'd read that addressed this topic: that is, how having lots of things about you that have special meaning, that remind you of loved ones who gave them to you or of memorable trips or events, or having furnishings that are family heirlooms that have been handed down to you, can bring so much joy to your everyday life and create a warm and inviting oasis for you and your family. Not that a minimalist approach can't work, too; but as this blog post explained, it isn't for everybody. (And if you like knickknacks, that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person! LOL )
Wow, I thought: there I go again, getting lazy about my blogging--because I'd had this very topic in mind for a few months as well, but now I worried that if I finally wrote my post, I might seem like a copy-cat. (But then again, it's not very likely that anyone other than my daughter-in-law would read both posts, so I doubt I'd have been accused of plagiarism!)
I never wrote/published the post. But I guess I’m writing it now!
As I get older and closer to that time when I won't be able to take anything with me where I'm going, I sometimes have an urge to purge myself of all the excess: all the pretty dishes and serving pieces that don't get used on a daily basis; all the figurines and porcelain dolls and knickknacks that aren't really useful--but even if they are, aren't really necessary, because like most 21st century Americans, I simply have too much. Way more than I need to live a comfortable life.
But every time I look around my house at all the lovely things that fill it, I am reminded of the people who gave them to us or where we were when we bought them. Everywhere I look--really, everywhere--the story of our blessed life, our history as a family, unfolds around me, and it's as if the house envelops me in a giant hug.
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I am not really a huge "decorative throw pillows on the bed" person (too much to take off and put back every time you make the bed!). But I just found this lovely lacy crocheted sham in my late M-I-L's things, and I decided to use it on one of our guest beds. |
I could never become a minimalist, I'm afraid. I do worry that I'm too attached to material things, but I can't imagine clearing away all of the stuff that adorns my walls and tabletops. There are too many memories and emotions associated with just about each and every item that surrounds me, and that's why I'm never quite as happy anywhere as I am when I'm in my own home.
I go overboard on some home goods, I admit it. I have a weakness for blue-and-white transferware dishes, for instance. Exhibit A--my dining room table at Thanksgiving:
I love to decorate the walls of my house with plates. I drool over pictures like these in magazine spreads Internet searches:
I think blue-and-white plates on the wall look fabulous. But something stops me from going completely overboard.
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Maybe I am a minimalist?! It looks like I’m not even trying, compared to those Internet images! |
At the beginning of this post, I mentioned projects. Recently, I worked on one that was so much fun and so satisfying.
Very early in our marriage, more than 40 years ago, my younger brother gave me a small wooden wall shelf he'd made in his high school shop class. It was for holding tea cups and saucers; there were hooks for the cups and grooves for the plates. At some point--between all of our various moves, I can't remember exactly when--the top piece broke off and got lost. So when we were living in NH, I decided to hang it upside down, remove the hooks, and use it to display small knickknacks. Since our move to VA in 2017, it's been out of commission, hiding in a storage area under the stairs in our basement.
For some reason, I thought of that little handcrafted shelf a few weeks ago, and I decided to get it out and refurbish it, and then put it to use in our "new" house in VA.
Using the bottom as a guide, I was able to trace a new decorative top piece on a scrap of wood I found in the garage (left over from some other house project); then my handy husband attached it for me. I added a wooden floral embellishment to it and gave the whole thing a dark stain (as it would have been next to impossible to make the new pieces of wood I'd added match the original stain on the rest of the shelf). Finally, I screwed the cup hooks back in place.
When it was finished, I thought it was so beautiful--that it looked almost like some Colonial antique! I couldn't wait to get it up on the wall.
This one-of-a-kind gifted shelf that reminds me of my brother adds such a nice touch to a dining room that already makes me ridiculously happy. (And it's possible that I
am ridiculous! But I have such a fondness for dining rooms. I know for the most part, the "open concept/living and dining areas combined" thing is more popular among modern homemakers; but I am a sucker for a formal dining room.)
I do realize that at my age, I should be working on detachment from all things material. I have watched my mother lose her home, after my dad died and we knew that she wouldn't be able to live alone anymore. Almost everything she owned was either taken by one of her children, given away to charity, or sold in a garage sale. I know it won't be all that long, relatively speaking, before that will be the fate of all my treasured household goods.
In the meantime, however, I'm just going to enjoy having my things about me, as Mary Kate Danaher would say (in the best movie ever, The Quiet Man).
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If you've seen the movie, you know that Mary Kate's precious heirloom china is blue-and-white. Naturally! |
And I suppose that's as good a way as any to end this post!
This!
ReplyDeleteThis post totally speaks to my heart!!
ReplyDeleteIt seems that your attachment is to the memory or feeling you get from your things rather than the thing itself, so you are not really too materialistic.
ReplyDeleteI also believe it's wonderful to surround myself with things that make me smile..... whether furniture from the past, photos of people and places, or my stones & rocks collected as momentoes from many of our trips.
Yes, that's definitely it; furnishings and wall hangings that mean something to me, that have some sort of history for our family, are what make me happy---I'd rather have them around me than have my home professionally decorated to look like a Pinterest post. I think you and I have a very similar feeling about what makes a home. I wish we lived closer to one another so we could visit each other at our homes--you know, a quick drop-in for a cup of coffee. Wouldn't that be nice?! :)
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