As a minister’s wife my life has been very mobile. I’ve learned, over the years, not to be a pack rat. If it’s not worth wrapping, packing in a box, loading in a truck, and then spending precious time unwrapping then it has no place in my life. We’ve moved 14 times in 15 years and I hate the moving process so much that I will do just about anything to make it easier on myself.
BUT my desire to plant roots as I get older has expressed itself in curious ways. I find myself collecting things. For a girl who gave away her wedding crystal to a lady at a yard sale because she was tired of packing it, collecting anything at all is a little strange. I got rid of my crystal, but now I want all the globes I can get my hands on. I have more coffee mugs than I could ever drink from. I have books purchased just because they look old and they’re pretty. My former minimalist decor has morphed into adding anything that can make my house more “homey”.
Oh, and I should mention, I really wish I still had that crystal.
I want you to walk into my house without feeling the need to ring the doorbell and know that you can plop onto my couch and put your feet on the coffee table. To not feel the need to ask where the bathroom is because you’ve been here so many times that my home feels like yours. That’s what I want my home to be, and if one more coffee mug helps me meet that goal then I’ll just have to deal with the extra wrapping next time I move.
Not that I’m moving. Ever again. Lubbock may not have trees, but it’s currently where I keep my stuff and I’d like it to stay that way. (update: We now live in Winnipeg, Manitoba….. hahahahah)
I’ve learned that ease doesn’t necessarily bring quality of life.
So come on over. If you come around 9 at night the house will be clean (mostly), but otherwise just step over the baby toys and shoes that everyone seems to refuse to put in the proper place, and make yourself at home.