|"I'll help you hide this hideous rug until you come to your senses."|
02 December 2010
Decorating: Not impressed
We purchased a fixer-upper this past summer. I'm glad there is a cute name for it—it's less depressing than saying we purchased a complete wreck of a house which will need virtually everything except the studs (and maybe even some of those) updated and/or repaired.
I'm also glad that there is a multi-million dollar industry in place to support people like us. There are books, magazines, big box stores, videos and disastrous reality TV shows to show us what to do, what not to do and to remind us that we are not alone.
We are not making progress as quickly as a Type A like me would prefer, though this is not unexpected. So currently I focus on celebrating the little things: "One electrical outlet in the kitchen was replaced today! We now have one outlet that may not kill me when I use it! Let's whip out the hand mixer!" "One of the weeds in the weed garden turned out to be Greek oregano—hooray!" "Some day way in the future when we get around to addressing the dining room, I have bookmarked the perfect chandelier that we will purchase and install!" It's a bit pathetic, but it keeps me going.
One of my latest "Hooray!" moments came when I realized we had made enough progress on the bathroom that I could warrant purchasing a small rug for it (trust me, it was not rug-worthy for the first several months we were here). I brought our new rug home, carefully cut off the tags, patted myself on the back when I noticed it didn't get stuck under the door when the door was opened or closed, placed it this way and that until I had it just right and then I wandered off to make myself a celebratory cup of tea.
On my way past the bathroom a few minutes later, this is what I found:
Apparently, Téa has decided that the new rug fails miserably as a rug and is trying to spare me the embarrassment. I know this because she has taken to wadding it up into a tiny ball every day and then tries to make it disappear by flinging herself on it so there is barely a bit of fluff visible to confirm its existence.
Maybe next time I'll just take her shopping with me so I can get her opinion up front...