Imprinting Our Home

 

Many years ago, I had a dear friend who changed her furniture around at least five times a year.  She lived in a modest home and at some point, every room except the bathroom and her beauty shop were switched around routinely.  Her living room was in every single room of the house.  A hallway might become a dining room, a bedroom might become a living room, her living room might turn into a bedroom.  She might have an eat-in kitchen or a dining space on the back porch.  Walls got painted whatever color struck her fancy and matched her furniture at the time.  She lived in her house, and she lived well.

To be honest, I envied her.  It's my lot to be married to a man who thinks that painting is a BIG deal and EXPENSIVE.  Well, it's not really though I will admit that paint has gotten higher in cost.  I think it's the work involved.  Walls must be prepped and furniture moved and then there is cutting in, cleaning up drips, moving everything back in place once you're all done, which we all know never goes back right where it all was before because now the room is all different... but I have digressed.  

I envied her, that friend who had such a free hand with her house.  Ultimately her home was her creative outlet, and it reflected her vision.

Some people just love the whole process.  Shirley did.  John does NOT.

In 2020, I went into Shirley's home for the last time.   I was in her home for a family visitation due to her death. The moment I walked in, the rooms literally sang with her personality.  The colors, the arrangement of furnishings, the accessories and how they were placed all spoke loudly of the person who had place them as they were. I felt her personality pulsing about me.  

She did it over and over again, allowing her home to go through many reincarnations.

Me?  Right now, my living room is exactly how it was arranged twenty-eight years ago.  Furniture comes here to die, mostly.  And when it's done, we usually acquire another used piece to replace it.  Mind you, there is nothing wrong with used furnishings. It's just that I never seem to acquire those that look like anything I would have chosen.  They always look misplaced in my home, not really blending in with anything else. 

If my home right now were my wardrobe, my decor pretty much is the equivalent of house clothes.  If you're not familiar with house clothes they are the sorts of things you wear at home for deep cleaning and working in the yard.  They are not the sort of things you wear to go out of the house, not even to pick up take out.  They are worn out, well used, past their prime.  And that my dears, is my home.

One of the reasons why I haven't put a lot of time or effort into my home comes to mind immediately.  For twenty-five of the twenty-eight years I've been here, I have lived in this house as though at any moment I was going to pack up and leave.  Mind you, that was never spoken of.  But when we first moved here, John asked if we couldn't move elsewhere.  I told him to give it six months and if he still hated it, I'd pack up and go. Well in six months he loved it here.  However, I hadn't been able to drop the idea that this might all be temporary. It has lived in my head.  

When we moved here, we didn't have nearly enough furniture for this house.  The dining area was turned into a play space for Katie and when Amie had moved out and Katie had room for toys in her room, the dining area stayed empty.  I tried to use it in a variety of ways with absolutely no good outcome at all.  It wasn't until Sam was moving from one apartment to another somewhere around Katie's senior year that she told her dad we needed to use the dining area as a dining room.  Sam was bringing the guys who helped him move here for dinner afterwards.  "There is no way, you can expect three six-foot-tall men to cram into that tiny space in the kitchen.  I'll help you move the table."  

That left the breakfast area empty but not for long.  Eventually I transformed it into my kitchen sitting area with mismatched chairs and a rug.

But I confess we never considered going out to buy new furniture.  In fact, we've bought very little in our years together.   I could say it was because we hadn't the money, but it would be more truthful to say that we never bothered to go out and look at furniture.  We used what we had, what someone gave us, what we could buy inexpensively from someone and we made do.

Another issue was that I've been too cautious.  I've been afraid of making a mistake, afraid of not getting it perfect right away.   I haven't put time and effort into the decoration of my home.  I have made excuses to avoid going out to even look.

I'm ready to make this home look as though it belongs to me, to us.  

I think English Country suits my tastes best, a sort of eclectic mix of old and new and yes sometimes well-worn look, but not in a beat up, cast off from somebody else way.  More in a well-used and well loved, passed down sort of way.  John's taste in decor tends to lean towards formal and traditional, so English Country is the perfect mix for both of us, allowing traditional shapes and pieces to mix freely with more humble pieces.  

Our color palette is one thing we have managed to get very right: sand, slate, green, grey, blues, white, teal, navy.  With a bit of coral and rust and maybe a pale butter yellow here and there.  I realized one morning that I've unintentionally drifted towards beach inspired colors.  We do not lean towards beachy decor, however.  No shells or nautical prints for us.    

I want my home to reflect us.  To reveal something of ourselves, the way Shirley's home was so obviously hers.    

The voice that shouts in my head when I make a decision such as this, is already screeching, "But you haven't the money!  And what if you make a mistake?  How do you think you're going to do this?!"

I fear I can't afford furniture, so I don't even bother to look for it.  I fear I'll never be able to afford what I like so I will take whatever anyone offers to give to me.  I feel guilty that I have 'useable' pieces that I don't want simply because they aren't 'me'.

Last night, I sat down at the computer and began the search.  The dining room rug that John's been urging me to replace is going to be purchased first.  There's a huge sale at one of the sites.  Fear that I couldn't afford what I might like and would have to settle had kept me from even taking the time to look. I found three rugs that we liked, all three affordable.  The one that was my favorite, John also voiced an immediate liking for.  He liked that it incorporated the colors we've already used for flooring and curtains.  It's $200.  That's quite doable for us.  

And then I let the fear go and started looking at furniture, pricing the recliner that John's wanted for ages.  We've decided to replace the shoddy antiques in our bedroom with newer pieces.  Bedside tables, dressers and a desk.  John will need to give his input on whatever we choose, but I saw several styles that really appealed to me.  This morning, I found the loveliest bookcases.  Taller than the ones we have now and when I showed them to John his eyes brightened.  They have arches at the top.  That's a design feature he has always loved.  

No, I won't be ready to make all of these purchases at once.  But if I keep my eyes open, and save my money while I'm looking, watch for sales, I think we can have a home that will serve us for many years to come and just happen to look lovely, as well.