There was a time in my life where beauty found its space. I could look around a tidy room and consider what might be missing, just a touch of texture or color.
Money was an issue, of course. Whether single or married, thrift and frugality were my attitudes and beliefs. Thrift is easier when you, or someone you know who lives with/near you, have handy skills for repair and touch-up.
Some ideas took no money at all.
I began to roll my towels because they were in an open-faced cupboard. The towels didn’t match; that wasn’t the point. Rolled often takes up less space and takes the same time as folding. Always, I matched which ends faced out—and rotated stock (more on my stock-rotation rationale elsewhere).
When I was young, a green thumb developed quickly. Personal experience taught me how to treat live plants and make the desirable plentiful. Curiosity gave me the gift of seed gathering long before I knew the words annual and perennial. Plants hone your listening skills because they cannot tell you what they need or when they need it.
Someone gave me a battered rocking chair that had no life left in the upholstery and the finish was nearly nonexistent. I sanded every inch by hand because I had neither the equipment nor the money to purchase proper tools. My hands, sandpaper. The finished product was unique, shaped to me, and I had hoped it would be the place I would rock our baby.
Life came to a screeching halt in 2004. Between 2003 and 2005 everything changed, but especially the views I held of myself. In 2004, I moved and never really unpacked. I moved again early in 2006 with possessions pared down to minimal, and still didn’t fully unpack. Twice more in 2008 and 2009—more closed than open boxes.
I still feel the chaos whenever a dog knocks over a pile of empty boxes and packing paper that haven’t found homes yet. I step over items that have cascaded from the shelf on which they were stacked two weeks ago.
I’m finding, though, that there is still room in the wilderness of my mind and space for a place to rest the eye on order. Dusty order, but order all the same.
©2012 Sandra Davidson