Here is that toile bedroom I wrote about a while ago. See those BLOOD RED walls? Sigh. Hopefully they'll get repainted soon. But, I digress. The IDHTBPTBB in this isn't actually the paint (although my paint job is far from perfect!). See that bedside table? Its a folding tray table that my kids and their cousins have eaten off of in the living room countless times. The tablecloth? A remnant of fabric that doesn't come close to fitting it (its only about 4 inches long in the back and is actually paper clipped and clothes pinned to keep the front corners from being too long. Not perfect at all.
And finally, the end table. Now this table belonged to Derek's Mom and Dad. It sat by Pa Smith's chair for years. He had pictures of all his granddaughters lined up on it and a bowl of candy that he'd sneak into on occasion. It has lots of little scratches, but I treasure it because it was Otis and Beulah's.
The timing of Nester's challenge is funny, since this is an idea that Derek has been trying to get through to me for a while (maybe not as elequently as Nester). "Honey, quit worring about it. We don't live in the Smithsonian! It doesn't have to be perfect!" Of course, he's a man, a man who never thinks about cleaning or fixing things up-what did he know? Well, maybe more than I gave him credit for. Thanks Nester, for driving home an important point. Stiving for perfection will drive us crazy (and to the poorhouse) in the end. We don't have to have a home that looks like it came straight out of a Pottery Barn catalog for it to be peaceful, warm, and comforting. What matters is that the things (and people) in that home make us happy and feel loved. And that definitely is beautiful.
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