I’ve been working on decorating my home a lot, but I’ve also felt very happy with what I already have. There are a few things I want to do differently–I want a new dining room table, and some new bookshelves. But I have a very old reclining couch from my grandparent’s, and I’m not getting rid of it until it breaks. I have two digital pianos–one is old, but I grew up with it and I love. The other one is broken, but it was my first piano. I love so many things that are in my home. I love the trapeze and hanging obstacles hung from the metal beam. I love the books that I own and are my absolute favorites. I love furniture I inherited. I love things I picked up at Walmart because I liked how they looked.
When I look around my house, I feel happy. Particularly when it’s clean. I love our toys and our games. I love my desk and my kitchen. I love being outside and inside and everyone in this house.
My house isn’t perfect. It won’t make sense to other people. But when I am home, I feel at home. I feel like this house belongs to me and my family and we have made it ours. We love it here. We love being here. And it’s not just the stuff, but the fact that that stuff represents our life and the life we want to have together: working, playing, being with each other.
As I work on picking out finishes for my house, reusing furniture, rearranging, I always try to remember not just how it looks, but it how it feels and how it functions. This is our house, and it is a place to live and to love and to wear out.