I have this friend Patricia who has what I consider to be the perfect house. It is not huge or lavish. Each item in it was chosen carefully and arranged with care. It is elegant yet cozy with lots of wood and natural items.
Patricia loves to arrange things and is always tweaking this or that to make her arrangements fresh or seasonal. She told me it must be a sickness because sometimes she can't go to bed until she had found the perfect arrangement on, say, her mantel or whatever surface she is cozy-fying.
I so relate to that. I have the same disease. Don't you love that when a friend expresses something you have long harbored in yourself and you suddenly realize you are not alone? I am always searching for simple yet pleasing arrangements, always trying to make my house homey. I was not raised by a mom who cared about these things, who ever rearranged or washed a dish. I grew up craving the feeling of living in a house that looks cherished. I guess I figured if the house looks loved, the people inside must be, too. These are a few shots around my house this morning.
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