Dreaming In Brown
I woke up today to a dark sky and rain. We've had beautiful spring-like weather the last week, a huge contrast to the horrible winter snow that kept visiting my neck of the woods. Soft pink blossoms are on my fruit trees, a few daffodils have poked through the weeds in my overgrown flower beds, my dogs ran joyfully through the yard. This morning, six dogs stood in my kitchen doorway with me as we looked out at the wet patio. Only one dog would venture out, the rest turned and trotted back to the sunroom. I can only image how this day will go!
My coffee was ready so I filled a cup and sat down at the computer. Yes, I failed to mention, the dogs did get fed. They do not allow me to do my thing until their thing is done. Their thing is dog kibble before my coffee. The rain is making me feel restless. Is it time for change again?
I took a sip of my lovely warm coffee, looked at the dogs sleeping on the couch behind me, the chair next to me, and Chloe, the little Chi, tucked behind me in my wicker chair. Then I went to Google and typed in Pinterest. I needed eye candy to brighten my morning. What I got was a heap of trouble brewing as the Cottage In My Mind started to change its style. A thought came to me as I looked at photos - not of my beloved old painted furniture - but of brown furniture as my antique dealer friends and I call it. Not lovely soft pastel cupboards, the paint with a patina only age could bring - but wood, stained lightly, darkly, with only a patina that age could bring. Ah, is there anything better than a patina from age. . .
A thought crossed my mind briefly. Why not have an estate sale - sell everything - and start over? A second thought followed that. . . . I have finally lost my mind. This is the second time within less than a month I have seriously thought about a different theme throughout my house. I wrote about a more colorful bohemian European style change on my Sparkle Blog titled Post-Op Delirium. Maybe that title spells out what is wrong with me. I had surgery mid February and am still in a holding pattern while I mend. (I am fine thank you if you asked - just can't move furniture, work in the yard, and do the heavy things that tire me out so I stop thinking of how to change my house!)
There is a truth in all of this that I need to recognize. Perhaps you have the same problem with things that excite you. Mine is decorating and houses (oh yes, and six dogs, how did I forget?) with others it could be clothes and shoes, or men, or travel, whatever your passion is. If you love something is there ever enough?
I remember my first house, a charming forties bungalow, I loved loved loved it, until I filled it up. I needed more rooms. I still had 'stuff' - but I had no space. For some stupid reason, I never worry I don't have money. . . but I do panic when I run out of room to put things. There is always a piece of furniture, a photo, that triggers, not just the yearning to own it, but a series of other items that flash through my brain, to design an entire room around it.
My psychic shopping experience, I used to label it. Back when I did antique shows, and still had space to add things to my ranch house, I could see an antique and within the week, I found and purchased everything I needed to set up my booth or redecorate my house. I would be out on an errand and suddenly a shop would catch my eye and I'd think, I need to stop there. I'd pull in and find just what I needed to complete the room in my head (which has now grown to the cottage in my mind). I was convinced it was a psychic experience, because I'd find things when I hadn't planned to shop. Yet on days I set out to look for a treasure, I'd find nothing. That lasted for a few years.
I thought my talent for psychic shopping had left me. Until. . .
It happened this spring when I did my ranch re-do. Yes, my handyman did the physical changes, but I knew I needed to swap out a few old pieces for a few new old pieces. I had a dresser in mind I'd seen in a book, a sweet Eastlake piece with a tall gingerbread trimmed mirror. I dreamed of that dresser. I never thought I'd find it.
Then one afternoon I went to a different town to shop with friends. We'd been to three shops and nothing appealed to me, nothing exciting, nothing to buy. Our last stop sparked something in my brain (deranged as it is) that made me know this was the place I'd find what I needed. The first piece of furniture as I walked into the shop, was a version of that Eastlake dresser. I bought it. (FYI, so you know my crazy runs deep, it is in my back shed. I have no place for it. . . just yet). Two booths later, I found the perfect pieces for my kitchen. Bought them too. I acted like a rich gal rather than a nut case with no money, but big ideas. The lady at the desk treated me with respect. I dropped a bundle that day. Pleased I'd found exactly what I needed, I had to return to pick up my purchases a few days later. I looked and looked, wanting to find something more that I loved (those of you addicted to the chase will recognize that feeling). Nothing. Nothing excited me. Nothing made me think . . . maybe. My psychic shopping gene found exactly what I needed for my kitchen (Okay, and a piece I didn't need, but dreamed of!) and then it was over.
The purpose of this post, rambling on like it is, I've managed to get my desire for change under control for the moment. The estate sale sign is back where it belongs - hidden far from my view. The rain is still pouring down, the sky a little lighter, the tension of being slightly bored, recovering from surgery, wanting to do everything, and not able to do much at all to move things around in my house, has been replaced by something I can handle. Food.
I wonder what I can eat now. Is there something fun in the fridge?
Sometimes a bit of craziness is a great way to pass time. Dreaming is a good thing. But I do know, eating is my answer today. Excuse me while I head to the kitchen. Oh look, there are two lovely painted cupboards against the wall, that I found against all odds, but thanks to my psychic abilities. I love love love them.
Silly me. I love things just the way the are in my house. What was I thinking?
My Happy Dance
I haven't given up on the farmhouse either.
If you are going to dream, take it all in!