We moved over the weekend. I am thrilled with my new abode. It's still a rental, still a tract home, but it's all remodeled and bright and pretty. This in contrast with the green shag carpet, paneling, harvest gold appliances and so forth that we'd been living with.
The move seems to have brought out the domestic urges in me that were previously suppressed. I didn't even want to be in that old house, much less decorate it. I still cooked, I still cleaned -- those things are necessary. But honestly, there was no point in trying to make my home a heaven on earth. It is going to be a green shag hell forever, until the selfish, greedy landlord wakes up and realizes that even at his bargain price, nobody (at least no working American) should have to live with such ugliness. Honestly, all he had to do was let us rip up the carpeting to expose the hardwood underneath. I would have stayed. But he wouldn't do it, and hallelujah, I've moved.
Today I did not want to come to work. I wanted to stay home and help my visiting mother (domestic goddess Judy, all hail!) make slipcovers and curtains to match the fabulous rug I found for the tiled floor of the family room and paint a 50s-era dresser a shiny dark blue with copper handles for my boys' room. In other words, I had almost-overwhelming Martha Stewart urges. This is basically unprecedented.
What do you think about home? What have you heard about what your home is "supposed" to be -- from official and unofficial Church sources? Second only to the temple in sacredness -- does that mean we should all get the cool buff leather chairs like they have in Bountiful? Heaven on earth -- are we going to have to stop playing Led Zeppelin on the stereo? Humble and simple -- should I have been satisfied with the green shag? Where do you find your balance?