True Home Confessions
Today is all about keeping it real. The realest of the real. In the spirit of a little hygge, I'm treading where souls illuminated by wellness and conviviality have trod.
I can’t wait to tell you all about it.
Every.Last.Detail.
I think I'll start by using white placemats and for a centerpiece, root English ivy cuttings in a $.99 milk glass vase from Goodwill. (Aside: do not pay more unless it’s super cute; then you can spring for $1.99. The 20% discount on senior day can be a game changer.)
But what's a Country Living table setting without good carbs like Second Granddaughter's Italian garlic bread and dessert like Younger Daughter's caramel-poke brownies?
They're even more delicious for snacking when you later curl up on the Big Bed to watch Captain Underpants or A Million Little Things. (Check the latter out on Hulu. It's marketed to make you think of This Is Us, boasts a good cast, and champions friendship.)
Maybe have warm gnocchi soup... nothing too fancy. Or wine with Muenster cheese and rosemary chips and bacon-wrapped scallops with Hubby and perhaps, neighbors and church friends.
And heed Second Granddaughter's advice to not be a fuss and ditch the umbrella because a little bit of rain won't hurt. I'd cross my eyes like her, as she imitates her Daddy's low growl of a voice.
And sip mocha peppermint coffee and munch on a cinnamon roll with Youngest Daughter. Or get another tattoo?! Or learn to wrap gifts Furoshiki-style with fabric.
Or watch Hallmark shows for reference, particularly when I have to make difficult life decisions. MI-Fallout is also OK. Hubby and I watched it on Roku at a discounted price. Recently, I went to see The Grinch. As in years past, the reclusive green character decides to ruin Christmas for the cheery citizens of Whoville. But the story is revamped just enough to feel fresh and pretty fun. And I smiled because it was hands-down the greatest movie I’d ever seen specially in the company of a little girl and her Mama.
Perhaps enjoy the joyful notes of Beethoven's Ode from First Grandson as he practices with his Mama, and sit by him as he dutifully completes Achieve (an online reading comprehension app) each day ... and then... look over his shoulders as he air-drops out of a moving plane, and Fortnite-battles it to survive as the play space slowly shrinks to force people into combat.
Or just like First Granddaughter, be a 'jammer' and become her favorite animal... (is it a cheetah?)... explore exotic Jamaa and meet other children from around the world who share their love for animals. Or in her favorite pink outfit, wearing a new sequined headband with cat ears, feel the wind on her face as she rides her new 'big girl bike' without the training wheels. And run and soak up the sunshine and dance to the sounds of the ocean.
And like both First Grandchildren, perform the Baby Shark dance learned at Summer Fun. Or break out spontaneously into dancing infinite dab, boogie down, and orange justice by the marina in between bites of cookies n' cream and gummy worm frozen yogurt.
Or watch Dirty Dawgs Coach in a huddle with his fierce flag football team. And as you sit and cheer your team to victory, before you know it, you understand that if the player with the ball has his flag pulled or if he goes out of bounds, he is called 'down' and the ball is dead. And all of a sudden you’re an expert. And you jump up and down with Eldest Daughter who's wearing a fan shirt with a matching cap at a touchdown because you know it scores six points.
And since nothing says quality time more than shopping with your firstborn whom you get to see only four months out of the year, how about scoping out rows and rows of urns and picture frames and pillows and bird’s nests marked with yellow stickers for a mere 100 yen per item (equivalent to $1) at the new Daiso? And after that, savor chocolate mousse by candlelight in a French cafe?
Or share all the really important things in life with Hubby. Like catching up on TV with the global high-stakes mission of SEAL Team and the inner workings of New York's FBI. And battle it out, loudly shouting out the answers on Jeopardy, framed in the form of a question, no less.
Or look at the back garden to watch the neighbor's cat Pifko cavort with the baby squirrels in the woodpile. And grin, remembering Andy Bubba's pleading face on my knees with a look that said, I'm not being fed enough. Or smile in anticipation of Meeka doing two happy laps inside the house before a walk. Or watch Asool fall asleep while nibbling his sunflower seeds.
And how about growing my own tomatoes in the spring, drying my own mint for use in the winter, baking banana bread, and raising chickens, or just quail?
Yes, it’s true. Life isn’t about what you don’t have. Or what you want. Or what you are going to get.
Instead?
It's about taking a moment with family.
It's about celebrating all the gifts you have already been given.
It's about reminding yourself about what's truly important.
Not just at Christmastime but for all time, it's about focusing on the heart of living that is filled with
Hope
Love
Peace
and
Joy
And that will be so close... NO, not just so close,
but truly AMAZING!
True Home Confessions
Welcome to the latest edition of As the House Redecoration Turns.
It has been three-and-a-half months since my crusade, and I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself... like I’m in the finals for decorator of the year and someone is about to knock on my door with a trophy and a blue ribbon.
After all that scurrying and deciding and planning... now the great room looks like it has stepped out of House Beautiful and can well be pinned a zillion times on Pinterest.
I know, right? If you have been following this series, you are nodding with me.
I’m in a committed relationship with my house. I can’t help it. Every time I pad through in my American Airlines-provided socks, my heart smiles. And just between us? I will re-live every step of the journey for this moment.
I never dreamed.
I’m not overstating it.
I never imagined my slipper-type air carrier hosiery would ever walk so far.
So, it won't hurt... if I take Just.A.Small.Peek into what's trending in home design and life style.
Hygge.
Eeekk! What??!! You’re just chilling and drinking coffee and trying to figure out if spaghetti squash is a thing. And then you blink….
…and someone says, Who-guh? (Aside: that's how this Danish word is pronounced.)
My palms become sweaty, my throat dry, as I read on. Do you know where your anxieties are? For a happy life filled with wonderful moments, whatever the time of year, bring more hygge into your daily life.
Hygge means to live in and savor the moment, deep down inside. Drop that into conversation in the deli aisle at Meijer and heads will turn with respect. The concept is an emerging movement espoused as an antidote to the trying times we find our society in.
It’s about the everyday small pleasures that nourish the soul - a beautiful design, a walk.
It’s about creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.
It is the invitation to get together, the beauty of simple things, the heart of conversation, the details of hospitality.
Say what?! My head is spinning. Just when you think it cannot get any better, you are nudged toward the idea of a life that is lived to the fullest...
... and where every moment counts. Wow! All that sounds close to amazing.
Is it possible?
Noah had his rainbow. Jacob had his ladder. Sarah had her son. God knows I'm into creating the coziest home ever, so he has sent me a sign of his faithfulness in the form of hygge.
I already feel more in touch with my emotions.
(To be continued)
True Home Confessions
I was looking around the great room when inspiration struck. What if I challenged myself and made this room more great?
Raise your hand if you have a big opinion.
Oh, good. Please come sit by me and let's discuss.
Do you notice that behemoth grand piano that's blocking the view? What if...
... what if I pull it toward the back and trade its spot with the seating area?
You agree?
So that morning, I tugged... and pulled... and pushed. And tugged some more. And as the Shigeri Kawai found a resting place on the far corner of the room, the sky parted and a chorus of angels sang praises on the new living arrangement.
Their blessing upon the room overfloweth!
But something was lacking. You know, that look of lightheartedness. The stylish simplicity that I had seen in Pinterest photos. White interiors, neutral decor, organic materials, plants, and lots of light. How about (I'm not even asking your permission on this one)...
... a bright, spare, Nordic interior?!
I was obsessed.
I didn’t think.
I simply did.
I was a lunatic.
I went thrift-shopping for white ironstone dinnerware and decor at Goodwill like it was my full-time profession.
I spray-painted side tables and folding chairs and trays and an entire wrought-iron deck furniture set with Krylon super glossy white. To say I painted a few things was like saying 90210 was just a zip code (look this up if you don't know). I was on a mission to Nordicize anything that didn't move.
(Aside: Hubby must have noticed me eyeing the black-speckled kitchen counters, so he decided to get them professionally re-done. Needless to say, white quartz was our color of choice.)
When there was nothing left to paint, I went all Thomas Kinkaid getting a glow on all available surfaces with twinkling lights and white taper candles in glass holders.
For greenery, I rooted English ivy and spider plant in milk glass vases.
In the past, some of my projects didn't turn out as I had expected. But this time, the stars aligned. And the universe decided to cooperate.
And all was as pure as the driven snow.
(To be continued)
True Home Confessions
I have to go all George Washington and the cherry tree today. I cannot tell a lie.
I.Was.Overwhelmed.
Truly.
So I rallied myself with a renewed sense of purpose. I squared my shoulders and began to surf the Internet for answers.
Guess what word repeatedly floated like a lifebuoy in bold letters when I googled, SOS Drowning in Clutter?
Minimalism.
Control your own destiny. The easiest way to organize your stuff is to get rid of most of it.
I saw the light. I needed to know my clutter. The word was derived from a middle English word clotter which meant 'to coagulate.'
Marie Kondo's Spark Joy, an illustrated master class on the art of organizing and tidying showed the way out of my 'coagulated' rut. You held an object in your hands, as close to your heart as possible. When something sparked joy, you should feel a little thrill running through your body. That was the sign for a keeper.
I got this!
I hugged my prized possessions that didn't pass the spark test, looked at them with a thank you in my tear-filled eyes, and tossed them in a Goodwill donation sack.
Stalwart survivors got united, segregated, and desegregated by category and neatly piled in bins and baskets. A few doubtful ones were quarantined to be dispositioned later.
I became a Marie disciple, folding Hubby's and my entire wardrobe, big and small, each into a Konmarie four by one-and-a-half inch free-standing roll. Check the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lpc5_1896ro
And triangulating empty plastic grocery bags in small reservoirs of delight.
Even my spices were purring in alphabetized contentment. And my leftovers were color-coded.
I’m happy to report that the clutter disappeared (most of it, anyway) and the house is clean.
Full of joy.
Contented.
I know. Did you sigh, too?
I can now breathe easier.
(To be continued)
True Home Confessions
In this four-part series, I'm inviting you on my journey from the bedlam of everyday living to the peace of a beautiful and tranquil existence. If you are not already on this road, I hope that this would inspire ideas as you mold a space that you will love.
I had come to grips with domesticity. For the first time in a long time, my life was coming together. And it felt good.
Until that day.
I walked to the refrigerator, flung both doors open, and stood there until the hair in my nose iced up. That was when I noticed weird things growing restlessly within. Ciabatta rolls had turned blackish green. I knew from experience that there was no known blackish green food. If you saw it, it signified death.
A hundred dollars worth of half-eaten food in varying shapes and forms that didn't snap, crackle, or pop were in the pantry. A shelf below could have been a memorial to Taco Bell salsas and an assortment of condiments from fast food bags including napkins, fortune cookies with the fortune still inside, and chopsticks.
Bread ties, rubber bands, and keys that no longer opened anything were in a catch-all drawer. It was also the breeding place for writing implements which started out as single Sharpies, gel pens, and pencils. These, however, had coupled through the years and given birth to children and grandchildren which could easily constitute the entire pen population of my current home state.
I fled to my wardrobe closet for solace. I almost hurt myself, opening its door. Clothes that had magically shrunk but which I'd never donated because I just knew I was going to fit in them again one day assaulted me.
Hotel bath freebies, goodie bags from the dentist, a Plumb-Away plunger, and double-action Polident tablets (no one in the house wore dentures) were safely ensconced under the bathroom vanity.
The living room cabinet was a time capsule filled with Hubby's manuals for the microwave, car, computers, vacuums, TV, etc. I wasn't even sure if we had some of that stuff anymore. There were also cassettes, CDs and DVDs, just in case he'd want to play/watch one of them, and the Carpenters, Barbra Streisand, and Simon and Garfunkel vinyl record collection from the 70's which could be worth something someday.
I was downhearted. I thought of sending myself a note of consolation, but couldn't locate the sympathy cards that were bought last year on clearance. But I found extra Christmas photo cards from the last five years. You'd never know when we would want to see family portraits from years gone by. Even if they were saved on the computer.
I was in a crisis situation, hounded by what lurked in the shadows. What was I to do?
[To be continued]
