‘Stuff’ Differences

Disclaimer:  This post is NOT about anyone I know in my world, the blogging world, the great Hereafter, or otherwise.

     In terms of decorating, my mother used to caution me about not __________  your house. (At this point, fill in the blank with a person’s name, real or imagined, who brings to mind a layered on thick style of decorating that may or may not include neon beer signs or other startling but stunning objets d’ arte- which in South Texas translates to Stuff).

It works like this:

My mother: “Laura Ellen, don’t Jane Doe (the name has been changed to protect the imaginary) your house. "

     My mother used a pseudonym for an actual person ,who owned a small store down the road from the ranch where we lived, who really did hang neon signs in her living room. This was all said with great affection and respect for the diverse world of personal decor. I guess it was my mother’s way of saying less is more.

Here’s what I say today to Jane Doe.

“You Go Girl!” “Plug ‘em in!”

     Living 45 miles from town on an isolated ranch, without benefit of HGTV at which to shout things like,

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING! HOW DID SHE GET ON TV?”

my mother truly developed her style and flair from raw , natural talent.  Her sewing machine never stopped.

     She understood the rationale that of course a girl of 13  (me) who lived so far from town- and a small one at that- who couldn’t even get KTSA on the radio-with no local phone calling (only long distance)- would need a lavender bedroom with lavender carpet in which to live out fantasies, and ‘he said’/’ she said’, and hurts and dreams and hours of record playing (when I was not pretending I was a drum majorette , out in the yard ,blowing a whistle and bossing people around).

     I am so glad I learned at her knee, or better yet, by sitting in the passenger seat of her car. I am so glad that she taught me to appreciate and honor it ALL in home decor- electrified or not.