I wasn’t planning on blogging on the weekends, but who knows when the urge to write will come? No photos today.
I consider myself a fairly laid-back person, so was shocked when one of my closest friends told me I was “pretty particular about things.” Moi? Nooooo. But then I started thinking about stuff I love, and have slowly come to realize she may be right.
I’m not a princess, but I can’t sleep on lousy linens. The thread count has to be up there. Not Italian linen, but something really, really soft. Polyester sheets actually burn my skin. I stayed in a cheapish hotel more than once and got what looked like rug burns on my elbow and knees from the sheets.
I like nice art or photography hanging on the walls. Especially old engravings or prints. I found some lovely ones when we were in Prague. No art prints tacked to the wall with push pins, please. I can’t do that. The art or photos must have some kind of frame, preferably matted, and they must go with the decor. I’m an artist of sorts (it was my major in college for one year until I discovered French) so that has something to do with it, I’m sure.
It’s not easy moving into another woman’s home, especially when she’s no longer of this world, but I’ll save that for another post. Suffice it to say, it’s a delicate balance between wanting to feel like you’re more than a guest, and not wanting to imply that the former wife had inferior taste. (She didn’t, but her taste was very different from mine.) But I digress….
I can’t do plastic wastebaskets unless they’re hidden under a sink or behind a cabinet door. And cheap flatware makes my teeth hurt. Seriously! When it gets worn it feels weird on your tongue too. Kind of like when you make popcorn with olive oil. Yes, I did this! I was in Lebanon and desperate for American food and we couldn’t find any regular vegetable oil. (Why would they want something like Crisco oil when they have the best olive oil in the world?) Let me tell you, popcorn made with olive oil makes your tongue feel like it has FUR on it.
I don’t mind old furniture or flea market bargains (I scored my dining room set on Craigslist, for Pete’s sake) but said furniture must not sway or be held together with duct tape.
No thin towels or washcloths, I beg of you. My mom, who survived the Great Depression, used washcloths that came free in the laundry soap box. Have you ever used one? You can see through them when they’re NEW. I hated those things; still do. Sorry, Mom.
So basically, I like my surroundings to look good, and I don’t think that’s princess-y. Some would call me an aesthete and I’m fine with that. Studies have proven that fresh flowers can actually lighten your mood, so I try to have them around whenever possible. This is the first house where I haven’t grown roses, but I hope to change that. I remember legions of Japanese beetles devouring my roses when I lived in Virginia years ago and maybe that’s stopping me.
I can’t end on that note. Today Mr. Pearl and I stopped in at a Borders bookstore and I was thrilled to see that they had the latest Alan Bradley book, “The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag.” Have you read his first one, “The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie“? It’s fantastic. The heroine is a precocious eleven year-old girl named Flavia de Luce who solves murder mysteries all by herself. She’s a brilliant chemist and witty to boot. I’m providing links to Amazon.com–not because I get a kickback, but because I love them. And books…oh, don’t get me started. I can’t live without them.
Thanks so much for stopping by….