This may come as a shock to you, but if you’ve been following the blog, I’m sure you’ll understand … you know that list I outlined the other day of which minimization efforts I would tackle on which days? Well, then we had company on Sunday, and went car shopping on Monday … but on Tuesday, I finally rounded up the items I’d already purged on my mental list. Because even if I’m not *actually* packing up boxes, I’m *imagining* myself packing up those boxes. It’s a little like learning by osmosis–you know, when you fall asleep with your head on the text book and wake up the next morning just in time to rush to your final? What do you mean, you don’t know what I’m talking about? Didn’t everybody do that?
So, here is my tour of the living room yesterday afternoon …
Take this fake ficus tree, for example. The photo is a bit dark, but the point is that it is a silk tree blocking the view of the real trees outside the windows behind it. And, taking up a perfectly good hide-and-seek corner at the same time. Time to part ways with the space-takers.
Now, as we move on to the mantle, let us consider these little stuffed bears that my son received when he was born …
So, here’s the thing about these bears. I’m not much of a sentimentalist, and to be honest, he’s never really played with them much. But these bears represent so much more than some fabric and some stuffing in this family. See aforementioned battle between the English and … well … those who shall not be named. I think these are keepers for the time being. (Or at least until my husband gets on board with this 100 Things Challenge. Did I mention that he lost his car keys last night, so we stayed up an extra thirty minutes searching the pockets of what must have amounted to 47 pairs of his exact-same-color-and-style shorts?) The bears stay.
But keeping a couple of bears will not stop me from clearing out some other nooks and crannies. Take this smelly-eucalyptus “thing” that sits by the front door. It doesn’t actually emit any scent. Unless you pick it up and sniff it. But then the dried leaves break off and make a mess on the table. So it’s really just for looking at. Now, I’m no critic, but is this really an attractive piece of eye candy? No. Dust Catcher. Gone.
But wait … what is that sitting right next to the smelly tree? Oh, yes … the Treehouse Book.
This treasure stays for now, because it represents an experience and an adventure yet unlived. Our five-year-old-engineer-in-training studies this book and has designed his own tree house for our back yard. We haven’t started building it yet, but he has a vision. And this book inspires him. So, for now, it can stay.
So, we’ve covered the spaces and the surfaces … but what about the wall decor? Here’s the thing … I like to think of myself as an artist, though I don’t actually have time to do anything artistic. However, every time I go on an art walk, or to a gallery opening, I can’t help but look at the paintings or the photographs and think to myself … I could totally do that. So, I have a difficult time justifying art purchases. Especially when my sister-in-law is a real, legitimate artist, and has created charcoal and watercolor portraits of my whole family that smile down on us from the livingroom walls. I need to paint. I need to draw. I need the experience of creating the art that hangs in our home. So, my new rule about art is this …
Original artwork, such as this beautiful piece, which tells the legacy and the story of our new home. This can stay. It keeps me grounded. It helps me to remember the plan and the vision for this house that is now our home. It gives me a sense of history and tells the story of how we came to be here. Because sometimes you just have to either laugh or cry. This masterpiece makes me laugh. Keeper.
On the other hand … this print that we found at Costco one day because the colors matched our comforter … we can do better than this … Yard Sale.
There are a number of other items that found their way into my Yard Sales boxes yesterday … mismatched wine glasses and beer steins that we never use. Air popper circa 1970. Leopard print cloth napkins–there was a time and a place for you, my friends. But it is time to move on and bless someone else’s life …