The movie of my life really woke some of you blurkers up, didn't it? I'll have to admit, for a meme, it was a really creative one. Most of them are more like lists, for example - Coke or Pepsi? If you couldn't tell already, my answer would be both, preferably with a shot of bourbon. (Or at least that would have been my answer before the pain condition and assorted medications). I have a friend who reminds me - in some ways - of Samantha Jones in Sex and the City. Her answer to my not being able to drink was, "Well, if you have enough margaritas, who needs pain meds?"
Certainly my life has been an interesting one, and while I would have told you differently when things were going south, I can say now - honestly - that I am glad for every experience I had. What kind of writer would I be if I had not lived so thoroughly? I can tell you what it's like to live in a house custom-built from the non-descript plot up and I can tell you what it's like to sleep in the back of a Mustang. I can tell you what it's like to be in an ICU bed and I can tell you what it's like to try to walk 20 miles across Houston in the middle of the night to get to a friend's house who might offer a meal and a bath.
Tonight I picked out blinds for my kitchen, which is almost as much fun as shopping for clothes because I'm always so grateful for what I now have. We're (still) in the process of scraping the old wallpaper down, doing some wall repair, and painting it a lovely shade of green. The ugly curtains left by the last owners just won't cut it. I can't wait to be rid of them, so we went curtain shopping. Through three stores, I only found one or two sets I could live with. Both would be the standard tier and valance kitchen curtains offering little privacy for our windows, which overlook the parking lot and the pool, and would be less stellar than what I'd hoped for. However, I was perfectly fine with getting the on-sale, two-tier kitchen curtains that were off-white and decorated with grapes and vines along the edges. And then hubby suggested we get bamboo shades or blinds where we got the blinds for the upstairs. I warned him that it would cost more, but he said, "Let's go have a look."
Through the strange swarm of termites that buzzed through the humid evening air around Frederick, we fought and batted our way to the blinds store. After talking with the young lady with the thick Russian? Ukranian? Czech? accent, we discovered that perhaps delicate bamboo shades weren't for us. They wouldn't offer much privacy at night - probably less than we have with the current ratty curtains - and they would easily succumb to at least one nutty cat who would undoubtedly tug and pull at them, nibbling on the edges, to get inside the windowsill for a long look at her parking lot view.
My next and final choice was an off-white version of the same wood blinds we have upstairs. They are imitation wood, so they are lighter and require less care (a real plus for this girl), and they will offer privacy or ample sunlight, whichever I prefer. Nice. And hubby didn't bat an eye about the price. I just think he wants me to be happy, though I would have been okay with the grapes.
Window treatments have a weird history for me. Dad always insisted on thorough coverage on his windows, and I don't remember a time when we didn't have multiple layers on the rods: valance, sheers, more sheers, and heavy drapery. It got really bad, though, when we moved back to Georgia in '77. He was so whacked out on the morphine shots he was given for cancer pain (and he was doctor hopping and taking about 4 times the recommended amount every day), he was convinced that people were trying to look in our windows. He especially believed that people were looking into my windows.
One day I came home from school to find the curtains in my room stapled together down the middle and nailed to the window frame. No kidding. I had absolutely no way to get any natural light into my room. The rest of the rooms were the same. It was like a dungeon, with dark shag carpeting and dark wood paneling. I felt as though I were walking into hell when I came home every afternoon. Thankfully, that part of my life was brief. I loved Dad dearly, but he was very, very sick.
It is probably that period in my life that makes me love the sun so much that I only spent one miserable year in Seattle before I had to leave and come back to the east coast. I love to get up in the morning and throw up the shades in my bedroom, tilt open the blinds in my office and squint into the sun pouring into the kitchen windows. Now I am envisioning myself opening those new blinds first thing before I make my coffee, lifting them a few inches for the cats, and relishing in the fresh look of my newly painted kitchen.
It's going to be fantastic. I might even hire Heather over at Coal Miner's Granddaughter to come over and destroy my old curtains and the bent rods just like she destroyed her old washer last Christmas. See for yourself! (Wouldn't you love to have a mom like her?)
Peace - D