1 of 2
It started out innocently enough.
I was lugging a potted plant from our bedroom to the living room when my husband, Tim, glanced up from the football game on TV.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Moving this plant," I explained. "It doesn't look too healthy in there. I thought it might do better in the sun by the window."
Tim nodded and returned to the game. I headed to the kitchen to start dinner. It was an unremarkable occurrence, a blip in our daily routine. But this seemingly innocent incident was the first slippery step into a decorating abyss.
T he next morning, as I passed through the living room, the plant caught my eye. Wow, I thought, that plant really brightens up the room.
"You know," I mused to Tim later, "that's exactly what they do on those decorating shows—move stuff around the house to create a whole new look. I'll bet I could do that. Redecorate on the cheap."
Tim, who's always for anything cheap, wished me luck with my venture and headed off to work.
I got to work, too. I darted from room to room grabbing everything in my path. If it wasn't nailed down, I moved it—knick-knacks, paintings, even furniture. By that evening when Tim returned, everything we owned was heaped in the middle of the living room floor.
He looked at me, stunned, then rushed to the phone.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Calling 911!" Tim replied frantically.
"Why?!"
"We've been robbed! Look at the house; everything's been ransacked!"
I quickly explained this was simply the beginning of my redecorating process—putting everything in one place to assess what I had to work with. Thinking back, I probably should have let him make that 911 call. They could have hauled me away before I got in too deep.
I spent the following day pushing chairs and tables all around the house. Tim came home around six, just as I was finishing dinner preparations.
"Honey," I said, "could you please set the table?" He got the dishes from the kitchen cabinet … then stopped.
"Uh, where is the table?" he asked, standing where our kitchen table used to be. In its place were two chairs from our living room and a small table I'd found in the basement.
"Oh, this is a sitting area now—a 'cozy spot,' as we decorators like to call it," I explained. "We'll be eating in the guest room, which is now our new dining room."
"And the dining room is … ?"
"A multimedia room—as soon as we buy some multimedia."
We spent most of that evening getting accustomed to our new layout. I was invigorated by the change, but Tim wasn't adjusting as well. It's the difference in our decorating philosophy: Mine is more "out with the old, in with the new," while his is more "if it ain't broke, don't fix it." Still, he was trying to be a good sport.
"Tell me again why we're sleeping here," he asked as he lay in our new bedroom (formerly the study).
 E-mail this page   Print this article  Post a comment |
