I'm not the biggest fan of apartment living, mostly because I'm not the biggest fan of people. Living in rabbit hutches so close to people. People stomping around above our heads. People parking too close to our trucks. People letting their dogs do their business outside our window during breakfast.
I dream ALL DAY about getting out of here to the point that I sort of neglected our little abode, be it ever so humble. I didn't really decorate. I let plants wither in the heat. I had very little pride in living here because I just don't really want to live here.
Does that even make sense?
I watched the Hobbit with the kids this past week. On top of that, Gandalf got me thinking about a poster in my bestie's house back when we both lived in Alaska. I loved her house. It had dark woods and Baggins colors and all the comforts of a hobbit home. It made me miss her so bad that I had to watch the movie a second time and drink 32 cups of tea.
How many of you can claim you decided to love your house because of a fantasy movie and memories of days spent with your best friend? Never thought I could, either. But I sat dreaming about my farmhouse and my acreage (that I WILL have) and I began to think about decorating it. I've never dreamed about how I would decorate stuff. If it were up to me, I'd still have a Patrick Ewing poster stuck to my wall with pushpins.
I haz no style.
But I fell in love with the dark woods and earthy vibe of Bilbo Baggins' home (it is a hole, afterall). And I wanted a hobbit hole all of a sudden. So I spent three days pulling 13 bags of toys/clothes/trash from the house and dusted off those poor plants and brought them inside and pruned them, watered them, repotted them, and pulled out all the art and knick knacks I never bothered to unpack from Alaska and began rearranging this place.
I have a really long way to go, but I woke up today and I don't hate this place so much. Sure, I hate the concrete jungle full of ambivalent neighbors and serial lawn poopers, but I don't hate what's inside our walls. It's homey and warm (hot, actually, but that's Houston). It's not nearly as drab and lacking character.
It's a start, anyway.
This was a short but inspiring piece. I've been in my house for nearly 5 years now, and have taken very little pride in it. This past month things have begun to change. I went into my wasteland of a backyard and attacked the weeds that have taken the place of my vegetables. I went to the nursery and bought my fall crop. Instead of letting them sit in the garage for a week dying, I actually planted them. Then I called the owner of the house and gave him the list of issues that have popped up over the year. I've decided to make this place a home rather than a place that holds my bed. Now when I drive up from work or the gym, I'm excited to go inside. I look at each room and see what could be rather than what isn't. I think a lot of us have the problem of allowing our homes to just be a place to go to at the end of the day rather than being a place of comfort and happiness. This inspired me to do more. Thanks Megan
ReplyDeleteThere is a lot to be said about the message that taking pride in our home will send (or can send) to our soul. Not caring really can take a negative toll on our spirits and on our kids. I've seen it. I hated (so much) the crappy house we lived in, in Idaho. I AM a decorator with "style", but that house was beyond that and so I just didn't care. And I grew depressed and I watched it affect my kids... they need to learn to love home, wherever home may be.
ReplyDeleteI loved this post!