As this morning has progressed I've done the usual chores and sat down to write. Looking around I see that my living room still looks common. My house is small. I keep treasures out where I can see them. Photos of my family dominated by photos of Rosalyn, my granddaughter at each stage of her 15 months. Some books on a shelf beneath the television. A set of DVD shelves. Frank's computer desk. The china cabinet, which belonged to Frank's mother. It holds my collection of Seraphim angels, some place settings of my mother-in-law's china, an assortment of small, cherished knick-knacks. More angels adorn the top of the china cabinet. Clutter is the design of my home. But, I don't like it. Do I box my treasures up in an attempt to acheive a noncluttered look?
When I became disabled I built a "nest" around my chair. It keeps my laptop, some writing equipment, address books, phone, medicine, magazines and catalogs close at hand for those days pain keeps me tethered to the chair.
My bedroom is in the midst of a major makeover. We built on a 12X12 closet, which is unfinished. Tools, a stack of flooring, and other out of place things take up more space than my furniture. My bedroom, when it's not a construction zone, is dominated by horses and southwest decor. My bedside table has three stacks of books, all to be read. Plus, a lamp and clock.
Another room is the book room. Full book shelves line three of the four walls. A nice futon on the other. Just now the futon is covered in Bayou Writers Group conference materials. I have a desk in there, which I always planned to use for writing. But, I tend to stay in the living room.
My kitchen is small with little counter space. Enough said.
Deep down everything is clean. It just never looks it. Because of the common clutter I guess. I long for order.
Even I look cluttered.
On the other hand, I have a friend who has a nice home. It is never messy or cluttered. There is a place for everything. It was professionally decorated inside and out. There are few personal items in the open, only one or two photographs. Even her Bible has a drawer of its own in the nightstand. Whatever book she is currently reading is kept in its own drawer of the nightstand when she isn't reading it. Her remote control is kept in a decorative box.
She has a lovely small table in the foyer with a floral arrangement on it which perfectly matches the painting above it. So classy and elegant.
She is classy and elegant. We've been friends for more than 37 years. She always looks perfect. And, classy. We're such opposites.
I admit she has a spacious home with more than enough storage space. Something I don't have.
Her home is classy. So clean and organized. How I wish mine could be so nice.
So, which is best? Common or classy? Neither I suppose. It's human nature to compare ourselves to others. I just wish it didn't matter so much.