I think it’s safe to say that I have mental issues, but I haven’t kept that part a secret from you now have I? My brain feels like it has been rocked out of it’s cozy space, turned upside down and put back in crooked. Yes, that’s kinda how it feels. But, despite the roaring pain, I just cannot seem to help myself from puttering! I send the kids downstairs to play because I need to rest. Yes, good Christen. Then I look around the room I am “resting” in and find an urgent and necessary need to move things around, try out different pieces here and there, order a new basket or some other unncessary item. Yes, the scale definitely needs to go on the foyer table now. For sure. What is wrong with me?! Hmmm, wondering if you all are the same way 🙂 I can’t be alone in this madness. I blame genetics. My beloved Gram used to call it “puttering.” Even at 90, I would watch her just move from room to room organizing, picking up what did not need to be picked up, placing things in their little spot. You couldn’t stop her and dear God if you tried to make her sit down, even in her sweetest voice she’d say stop!
It pleased her and I could see the great pleasure she got from her home. Gram had different taste from me. I’m not sure if she’d ever want an antique dress form in her living room or a bird cage in the family room or a chicken trough on the kitchen table. No, instead her glass cookie jar was always full. Her secretary neat & tidy with notecards to be written in. Her lamps centered, her pansies planted, her knitted throws folded.
I’m not sure it mattered to her whether or not we noticed or appreciated her efforts. The dance was for her alone to sway to; the music was in her beautiful head.
If pleasure can be found in our little space in our little corner of the world and it pleases us then how wonderful. What a glimmer of comfort & safety & happiness. For us Putterers, people around us may not hear the music and they may snicker at our dance or tell us to just sit down, but that doesn’t mean the pleasure is not there. Enjoy your space and putter away! Sometimes at the end of a difficult or exhausting day our space can be the only thing that is seeminly ours and we can control where we put the vintage books, damn it.