A Little to the Right

I was sitting in the gazebo this morning, just taking in the fresh air. The birds were chirping and there was a muted din from the traffic. All of a sudden, my mind became clouded. Something was amiss in the gazebo.

I looked around and the furniture seemed cluttered. The path to the slider was somewhat blocked. The wicker rockers seemed off centered.

Now, this was serious because I do not have spatial sense in a room. I don’t move furniture. When coins fall out of my pocket in my recliner, I treat it more as a piggy bank. {I wonder how much is under there?} I’m quite happy sitting in the same place for … ever.

No, the re-arranger in the family was definitely Karen and I knew — I knew — she was not pleased with the arrangement of the furniture in the gazebo. And she was letting me know.

I can’t tell you the number of times I reached for a glass in the cupboard only to find the glasses were replaced by coffee mugs. Or the times I went to sit down only to find a chair in a different part of the room. I remember walking into the house and seriously thinking I was in the wrong one. It’s a good thing I’m not a drinker.

I learned early in my marriage to make sure there was enough cable to reach every corner of a room. I learned that the hard way when I had to call the cable company for “room adjustments.”

With the advent of HGTV, things got more … interesting. It wasn’t unusual for my dear wife to go dumpster diving {true, when our neighbors remodeled we ended up with all sorts of treasures they considered trash}. It was uncanny how she could convert a broken lamp into something functional.

And color! She certainly added color to my life. I was perfectly content with white walls. There is not one white wall in my house … and I have four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, breakfast nook, dining room, living room, at one time a reading room, hallways and an office. Each room is a different palette from bright yellow to rich cranberry to shades of green to mustard.

And she accessorized each room. A nautical motif in the bedroom with the waterbed … a wall border complementing the dining room {she even painted the backboard of the hutch to match the dining room wall … three times, once to see what it would look like, once for real with the same deep burgundy and a final softer, pinker burgundy to make it “pop”} … painting the oak kitchen cabinets white with new red hardware {she somehow also conned me — no carpenter — into sawing out the panels in the upper cabinets so she could pleat red and white gingham “curtains” framed by gold-painted chicken wire} … she convinced me to build a bookcase in the breakfast nook to hold her collection of cookbooks {did I mention I am NOT a carpenter?} … She had a wall of pictures of our milestones {our baby pictures, wedding, more current photos}, our children’s weddings, our grandchildren, our heritage {grandparents and other relatives}, some of her favorite pictures. She was proud of the religious plaques dedicated to our children which she meticulously placed behind the fireplace. She deftly blended antiques {like grandma’s chest} and treasured trash with our more contemporary furniture.

At any rate, this morning I found myself rearranging the furniture in the gazebo. I moved the slider and table to the right. I knew it still wasn’t right, so I moved it a little more to the right. I moved one of the rockers and the settee. I still think it needs some adjustment. The other rocker, I think, would look better closer to the entrance, but that would mean I will have to move the clip that holds her weekly cartoon.

Somehow, I know when I find that right combination, that right look, I’ll know. Karen will tell me.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: People forget how fast you did a job but they remember how well you did it.

About wisdomfromafather

I'm just an ordinary guy walking along the journey of life.
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2 Responses to A Little to the Right

  1. colorstorm98 says:

    Good work. Time is a great healer, but the scars remain, impressions of tangible fondness. I like the idea about the ‘white’ walls; a blank canvas as it were, crying for attention. My wife the color master agrees.

    Yes, they know where things go, what looks right, and it takes no effort. But you have a great ally, your memory.

    God bless


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