01 March 2010

Every day's an endless stream...

Yesterday, I was up at the spouse's parents home removing Trojans and malware from the my MIL's computer, and I was thinking about the remodeling that must be done pretty much immediately here at my own house. And for a moment, I allowed myself a small reverie that included wallpaper.

I really dislike wallpaper for the most part, but if I could find some beautiful vintage reproduction William Morris or Arts and Crafts, I might consider a border. Maybe even a frieze.

It's funny that I appreciate architectural ornament, love old copper and tin ceilings, would even enjoy crown molding, but my house is very plain. Even my lovely china pattern is understated in the extreme.

(I refused the whole flatware thing. Eventually, my MIL insisted that I had to have some silverware! And found me something somewhere. I couldn't actually put my hands on it if I needed to, though I know it's in the house. Somewhere.)

When I was a child, Sears still produced its giant catalog (a fun little history of catalog here). It was the best thing ever, filled with finery like valances for windows and dust ruffles for beds and exotic hanging lamps. We waited until the summer got so hot and our mother got tired of our whining about being bored, and we'd get permission to cut up the catalogs. At that point, we became nascent interior decorators.

It was best to create a house, first, and the best houses were old shoeboxes. Ever ambitious, I would design rooms in my shoebox with bits of cardboard for walls and then the magical moment would arrive to start decorating. We'd pull out the Elmers and start gluing together fantasy houses of unparalleled grandeur, filled with the likes of chaise longues in the living room, tapestry in the bathroom, and splendid blenders in the gleaming kitchen.

(But never pressure cookers. To this day, I am terrified of pressure cookers, scarred for life by the enormous, heavy thing my mother had that made horrendous wailing noises, and was really only good for sterilizing baby bottles and canning jars.)

We'd leave the boxes to dry, carefully pick up the bits of leftover catalog at the prodding of my mother, and then engage in some other spirited tomfoolery, like a game of Museum in the living room, or that childhood favorite: Can You Guess the Spice By Smell Alone?

Once they were finished, we'd admire our lovely houses and then consign them to a shelf in the bedroom where they'd gather dust or bugs, or with the addition of a half dozen rubber bands find new life as a guitar to entertain a night club full of stuffed animals.

Go listen to some good music: "Homeward Bound" from the album Simon & Garfunkle Greatest Hits by Simon & Garfunkle.

No comments: