OTHER PEOPLE'S STUFF in Postcards 4

Many others are much like George and I, living in a house of other peoples stuff. With me it began when furniture became out of my price range. The biggest problem was when someone in the 1960’s gave me a sofa and chair that were white, I loved them. I never wanted to lose them. They were mine for life.

So that started my biggest problem…white furniture in the living room. Slipcovers were me.

Wrinkles didn’t matter. Art and color did matter. Silly me. Every room was wall to wall white and care. But….this time when I can home from the hospital, I just let it all build up into chaos. I didn’t have the energy or stamina to straighten it all up again. You’d laugh at me.

In the bedroom, the bookcase was Harriette’s, the chair my Grandpa’s. In the living room one lamp was grandmas, the other was Ducks, but I must admit that the sofa came from IK EA as did the footstool. George paid for them. No finding them in the alley.

Today I am tackling my closet. It should have neatly arranged rows of stuff by color just waiting for me to climb into them. Here, my fault again, I have been putting rejects back in and filling up the gaps. Oh Dear.

Last updated April 04, 2022