Thursday, May 13, 2010

Gettin' Itchy...

(Redid my hutch top yesterday. Statue: Goodwill $1, White frame:Goodwill, $1,
Large frame: Target, $8 (changed out picture), Bird: WalMart clearance, $6,
Black frame: 50 cents, yard sale.)

Spring is here.

And with it comes this irritation-
a tickle in my bones, as I call it.
A creative itch.
A need to fluff my nest-
tidy my house-
redesign my living spaces.

My husband thinks I'm nuts.
He tells me I'll break my back
moving the couch
or that the desk will not fit anywhere
except the same boring place it has been
for a whole entire year.

But, even though he realizes
that I may break my back,
he graciously leaves me to my madness,
knowing whole-heartedly
that his favorite chair
will not be in the same spot when he returns.

Maybe it's because I spend so much time at home
that I crave occasional changes to my scenery.
Maybe it's boredom.

But, you know, I like to think of it
as a blossoming of my inner spirit...
a quenching of my artistic thirst...
a way to keep my face out of the refrigerator.

My husband and I butt heads about it sometimes.
He usually hates my paint choices,
never puts the remote control back into
the cute little basket I prepared for it,
and often it takes him a week
to notice that I've moved the bed.

The good thing about the whole deal
is that I am not high maintenance.
I don't rush out and buy $100 rugs
and expensive matching lamps.

Give me $20 or $30 dollars
to visit Goodwill or yard sales,
and I will be a happy camper.

My husband hates that.
He tells me I don't have to resort to
thrift shops.
"Go get new," he says.

He just doesn't understand
that I love the hunt.
I crave the puzzle of putting things together...
... of the possibilities of
using something in a way
no one else would think of.

If I took all the thrift items
out of my house,
it would be empty!
Especially accessories.
That is my forte'.

I have no style.

No, let me rephrase that.

I have no specific style.
I'm bona fide eclectic.
A scavenger.
A magpie.

So, today I'll be fluffing my nest
and breaking my back
and hoping my husband doesn't notice
that I touched his guitar
in order to vacuum.

He's just really lucky
that I can't move the toilet!