For my fidgety winter

It's no secret that I get restless.

I pace around looking at my surroundings and I wonder what I can change.

Recently I was fully ready to paint my walls bright turquoise.  My friend Aunna, who is the type of person that tells it like it is, warned me against that.

(Everyone needs people that will give you unvarnished truth.)

So after Aunna saved me from myself, I went shopping and went to store after store in pursuit of something to get the change I sought.  (It is a great thing about having teenagers.  I told them I was going shopping.  Braeden asked how long I'd be.  I said as long as it takes and he said OK.)

I came home with some cornea burning bright turquoise pillows (that I love) and a heap of discouragement.

I was discouraged because I couldn't find what I was looking for. 

(And also, I didn't know what I was looking for.)

I finally realized something though.  It's the process I want.  I don't want a ready-made beautiful home that someone else thought up.  I don't want to be told these pillows match these curtains and this furniture and that wall color.

I like the process.  What I am really craving when I am looking for something new is creativity.  I need to be creative to be happy.

And I also like things a little quirky.

So I'm constructing a rug and embellishing some curtains in unconventional ways.  I saw ideas online that made my heart sing.

I told Adam and he thought it all sounded fine.  Actually he said something more along the lines of, "I never understand your ideas but I usually like the results."  Good enough for me.

I told Geri my plans and she looked at me with a mix of confusion and compassion then she went and found me some upholstery thread and some upholstery needles so I think that sort of makes her an enabler.

(Everyone needs people that think you're a little nuts but love you anyway.)

My raw materials.

It may turn out awful.

But it may not.