Does anyone love Home Goods like I do? We don't have one in our rural area, but when I go to the city, I have to go in there. I try not to go. I can't help myself. I love the dishes and the lovely vases and glass pieces as well as all the gadgets and “put-abouts.” I am also a fool for kitchen items even though I don't cook so much anymore.
I never go in one of their stores that I don't find something that speaks to me. Last week it was a white ceramic owl! I don't know why. I'm sure there was a reason and I'll understand it later.
|Don't you love those eyes?|
There is no more space for stuff in my house. With all the books and magazines piled around, my place is somewhat cluttered.
I go into a friend’s house with only a few well-chosen pieces on her surfaces and the room appeals to me. It is clean and bare, and I like it. So why do I cover every spare inch of space in my living room, my bedroom and my office with stuff?
Things are not important in my life. I am not and have never been a materialistic person. But at Home Goods, I turn into someone else. I get the idea that I can toss out all the old stuff in my house that I've kept for 45 years! But when I come home, I realize that I only have things in my house that have a special meaning to me.
I have horses in all my rooms. I have framed photos of my family in every room. I have my husband’s cowboy hats on a rack in the hall. A large print of hunting dogs hangs on my wall. I would never have bought that for myself although it is by David Lanier, a well-known nature artist. It is not the kind of picture people hang in their living rooms, but in a den where men smoke cigars.
For five years I worked for a good friend, part time, in her office where she was one of the first women to become a district manager for State Farm Insurance. About fifteen men - agents - answered to her. All those years the agents called the office to complain, to let out their frustrations, and most of the time my boss was not in. I listened to them and I empathized with them.
To my surprise, when I resigned because we were moving to the mountains, those agents presented me with the large painting, framed with a small brass plate with an inscription to me. I admit it. I was moved to tears. It was to show their appreciation of me. I didn't feel that I had done anything special for them.
That is why I can't throw out things even though I've had them for many, many years. What I have on my walls and on my tables are not as gleaming or startling as what I see at Home Goods. But my stuff is special to me and I enjoy it, especially when it is made by the hands of someone I love like the sculpture by Gay Moring, my sister, the photographs taken by my husband, Barry Beall.
|Barry called him "Billy Bob"|
My house is probably a decorator’s nightmare, but my niece once told me that she always felt comfortable in my house no matter where I lived. She said my house is warm and it represents me and what I like.
So I guess I’ll never have one of those spare clean rooms that I admire so much. I will have to stay out of Home Goods unless I am buying for someone else. I’ll try to think about Christmas presents next time I go. Hope they don't have any more owls.
What about you? Do you have space on your tables or do you keep collecting things you like?