This blog is born from a Facebook quote……it read “I don’t apologize for my house, it is lived in.”
My house is like that…….With a pack of dogs, if I velcroed the vacuum to my hip, there would still be dog fur lurking around the corners and stuck to every article of clothing I own.
I worked in Real Estate many years. Some homes I visited were so pristine, not a dish found refuge on a counter stark as the Mojave Desert. I wondered how these people cooked, washed dishes, made crumbs and memories that clutter up a life. My mom was a little like that….We had a dining room table that was only worthy of Holiday Dinners. The rest of the year it lay dormant and scratch free. My dining room table is covered with scratches, glued on glitter, paint spatters, and all the marks of not being cared for properly. But who is to say what is the proper care…..unmarked and barren of moments in life, or marked to the hilt, scratched and dented and finish worn off at the end of the day. When my parents died, I left that table behind. It was a lot newer than mine; but newness meant nothing. I like to see the dried on glitter, reminding me of old craft projects, the scratches from cutting and pinning patterns, the paint left behind from my palette.
As for me, I am not leaving a brand new table or sofa behind………..