Friday, October 12, 2012
Our house doesn't resemble it in the least and it probably never will.
There are as many ways to have a wonderful house as there are wonderful people. I like our house although I'm positive it will never be featured in any sort of magazine. It works for me. It's comfortable and a little bit quirky and a lot a reflection of my sometimes crazy ideas.
I have three identical clocks with three random times sitting on our piano:
My friend Stephanie was over once and asked me the significance of them. There isn't any. I just liked them.
I painted a quote on the wall in my kitchen, just because I like the quote.
I have silverware that I picked up in an antique shop stuck to my fridge with magnets, because I wanted to stick them there.
I like changing things up in my house. It is fun and makes me happy and arranging and rearranging quiets the restlessness in my soul that surfaces from time to time (especially in rainy weather--like today). On a side note, I didn't miss you rainy weather, although my children did (nutty kids). On another side note, the flagstone in my backyard looks pretty in the rain so there's that. And before Olivia reaches through this computer and wrings my neck, I will have no more tangents. (She once threatened my well-being on account of my tangents.)
Back to my house:
Not all of my experiments are successful and popular. The jury is still out on organizing our books by color.
When someone is looking for a book we try to remember the color then take our best guess as to which rainbow it is a part of.
Until the mutiny when they finally make me go back to a more sane way of arranging books, I'm sitting here in my odd little house, happy in the knowledge that none of those clocks has the actual time and if you can't remember the color of the book in question, you are out of luck.
I gotta be me.