What Your Home Says

Your home reveals your true personality.  From your choice of curtains or blinds -- or the absence of them -- to flooring, you tell visitors to your home precisely who you are, where you have been and where you are right now in your life.  I read this a couple of days ago and thought I would take an honest assessment of my home.  Here in astonishing and embarrassing detail is what I discovered:

1.  Books are the gold-standard around here, because we hold on to these little dust-collectors FOREVER.  Even if they have already been read and are not worthy of a second read.  Shelf space -- what's that?  Oh, just put the overflow of books on the floor...over there...next to the gigantic furniture that's entirely too big for our living space.

2.  Our furniture is entirely too big for our living space.  With some creative staging, it's at least livable.  But still a pain to manage.

3.  Our furniture reflects another person's personality, not ours.  Everything in the living and dining rooms came from David's father's house.  It all matches and is exquisite, but it definitely is too big and too nice for us 'natural' people.

4.  We are too natural.  What's a little sand on the floor?  Or countertops?  Or barstools?  I feel bad when I see sandy footprints on the rug.  But not bad enough to sprint to retrieve the vacuum and clean it up RIGHT NOW.  Later, later.  Adventures first (see previous post.)

5.  Adventures always come first, home management is pretty low on the list of priorities.

6.  Our adventures are represented by books (see #1), photos and small mementos from friends.  Friends' art, or my cherished Don Quixote wood bookends, or my rock collection.  Plants, books about plants, PHOTOS galore of plants.  Photos of Sage or stuff to put into her baby book ABOUND.  She really is the boss around here.

6.  Anybody reading this will wonder if my house is sanitary.  It is!  It's clean!  Sort-of.  Mostly.  It's just disorganized...and cleaning requires moving stuff from one place to another...argh, I'm getting dizzy just typing about the ordeal.

And we have curtains.  But we still have not put them up.  Every day, another exciting adventure supplants my desire to feel planted.