When it was time this past August to prepare my
parents house to be photographed and put on the market to
sell,I first had to connect
what I was feeling with what needed to be done.
They are both gone now and as of November of last
year, my brother and I are navigating how that feels.
I didn’t want to be at the point where this needed
to be done
and regardless of how old I am,
in my heart I am still a young girl, twirling my
baton out in the yard at the ranch, leading some imaginary band
somewhere.
In that memory, mother is inside cooking supper and
Daddy is pulling up in the driveway
after making a round on the ranch.
My little brother is playing with his trucks on the
patio or ‘working in his barn’.
But this house - this house in town- is just down
the street from our house, and it is where
they lived later in life after moving into
town.
My memories of this house are just as
important.
It is in this house that I really saw my mother’s
design ability in action, and what I watched her do clicked within me.
It is in this house ,that I really learned about
design.
I learned about the beauty of Saltillo tile, and
blue and white, and books, and flea
market treasures , and plants, and the comfort of
chintz fabric on a couch (there is no softer couch).
I learned about white and white spray paint and
white milk glass and white wicker
and white bedding.
So for this day of photos in my parents’ vacant, last house
I did everything I could to make it right.
This is what I did.
*I hired two yard men , and we worked
hard.
The kind of hard that I watched my mother do in her yard with a smile on her face.
The kind of hard that happens when you are working as hard as the wonderful people who are helping you.
She taught me that too.
My father's roses were trimmed and the lawn was
mowed.
We pulled up the last of his zinnias, and I put them in the back of Hauler 2 to take home to my garden once again.
I brought my wrought iron bench and some of my potted plants to place around their yard to fill in those empty spaces.
*I hired my father’s housekeeper who helped me
so much when he was ill,
and we worked hard.
My mother’s beloved Saltillo tile floors were
spotless and shining.
* With my husband and daughter’s help, I loaded
Hauler 2 with things
that remind me of my mother:
blue and white, flowers, books, white wicker, blue and white pillows, brass trays, and fresh flowers.
*I did exactly what she taught me. I used
what I had -to do what was needed.
And lastly, right before the photographer
arrived, I sprayed her favorite perfume in every room of the
house: Clinique Aromatics Elixer.
And then I knew I was done.
*****
Want my posts delivered directly to your inbox?
Just enter your e-mail address.
![[Becoming%2520Laura%2520Ingalls%2520Wilder%2520144%255B4%255D.jpg]](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidzg1H4NOg0xiFrKo8zzs7Yly859RUXb72iBH6MAzAzdtEjN8A0IE5X-SXmxiQxQtNmEUzZMl2z1Op0gbw07ukPMNi4vdqIsG65iAtlw4wHxm7z3aGQlCF1SwXOc1u1da3ENGZwqNvc4Pl/s1600/Becoming%252520Laura%252520Ingalls%252520Wilder%252520144%25255B4%25255D.jpg)
