We've been in our house now for, going on, a year and a half. Worked on it for almost a year before that, and, I have to confess that we are nearly as jumbly and disorganized and unfinished as we were when we moved in. That isn't ENTIRELY true. We seem to be taking small steps forward all the time, but sometimes it is so much easier to see all that we are wanting to be done, rather than what has been accomplished. Somehow moving here with three small babes and a mostly non-existent decorating budget has hampered our ability to manage even small tasks. And, on top of it all, there always seems to be a hot water tank or a missing door hinge or a broken window that eats away at the financial end. Yesterday I attempted to rearrange, yet again. my living room to accommodate two sets of furniture (both handed down to us from family) because I don't know which I want to keep in the room, and the potential-down-the-road rec-room in the basement is currently a pipe dream as it's filled from brim to bottom with boxes, and because, frankly, I like the extra seating. The results seem BETTER, although I have no idea what we'll do when we need to put up the Christmas tree, but in the process I seem to have jumbled up two other rooms and now feel potently aware of a great deal of bare wall space. All this rambling to say that, for today, I am choosing to celebrating a small wiggle in our decorating and organizing progress rather than dwell on the disasters that surround me.
Unfortunately, this little wiggle took place in our bathroom, which is truly the tiniest of things, and something was happening with my flash and the pics are not the best. But I shall celebrate anyway. Celebrate the sweetest of vintage embroidery, given to me by my dear sister Michelle:
Celebrate this sweet cabinet with the broken glass in the corner, given to me by Unc and Amy from their own bathroom remodeling and fixed up and hung by my daddy:
Celebrate the little hymnal rack that came from the church pew that is now my bed and is keeping the magazines from piling up on the back of the toilet (*ahem*) and my husband, who hung it and the clock at my request and without complaint:
Celebrating that we HAVE a bathroom and a sweet little house and loving and supportive families. And, somehow, that makes it not matter so much that there's a wall missing in my basement and a zillions chips and scratches in the practically new paint jobs and no proper basket to hold my hats and mittens this winter. It will come, one thrifty little step at a time.