Housekeeping

In the spring I put away some of my darker toned transferware that had been displayed on my sideboard, like my English woodland teacup (I don't know the pattern) with its mismatched Meakin saucer. I've enjoyed the changes I made all summer. But after awhile a display can become invisible. It seems that we have been trained to be decorators by nature herself.



I travel four miles to my shop each day. I take the scenic route, which is a 25 mile per hour meander through large estates in a rural area of town. Every day without fail there is something new to look at.


New blooms. A hay field has been cut, or bailed. I see a pheasant, or a roadrunner, or a flock of geese. There is a lake or a stream produced by irrigation that hadn't been there before. And soon, almost overnight the green will begin to fade from the trees.



Your garden probably provides the same daily pleasure in change for you. But the four mile meander has become my changing garden.



I gather my fall home decoration in much the same way that the season does hers. One day I wonder where a certain serving dish got to. Or on another day, a teacup moved to the side earlier in the season gets left out this time because I will want it soon enough.



One such object is this little floral jug that I haven't seen on my shelf for awhile. It will soon take up a new and different place in it's seasonal show somewhere in my home.



The ritual inside, mirrors the one taking place outside.



I admire the grand gesture of new seasonal merchandise that gets everybody enthused for buying again. I have a friend that acquires completely new decorations each season.



But my method is lazier and gentler on me and my immediate environment. Some years find little change in my decor from season to season.



I'll just keep gathering up like a squirrel or something I guess. Like this little wood carving that so charmed me when I discovered it at the thrift store.



Old and cracked but hand carved, it depicts a lad struggling to hold back the hungry animal that wants to consume his cabbage. The suspended scene reminds me to keep on tugging against whatever threatens my daily sustenance whatever it may be.



My gathered things remind me of gifts and givers, of past owners and possible future ones. Of seasons passing and arriving. Of their needed attention for dusting, polishing, washing, and repairing. Of keeping on. Of keeping house. Of keeping home.



Not too many grand gestures for me. Just another day of a little cleaning (often VERY little) and arranging things a little bit differently here and there to suit myself, the weather, or the company. I hope you're enjoying your gathering up too.

Thanks so much for stopping by for a visit! Ciao! for now!

Jacqueline

Today I'm joining The House in the Roses for Show off Your Cottage Monday,
Between Naps on the Porch for Metamorphosis Monday

A Stroll Thru Life for Table Top Tuesday
Martha's Favorites, and Artful Affirmations for Teacup Tuesday