Let’s go to school with color expert, designer and self-proclaimed hoarder Patrick O’Donnell. Here he shows us his enchanting home, a “typical 70’s ranch” he transformed into a country retreat with paint and wallpaper. He walks us through his 10 Design Rules, including essentials like How to Hide Your Jackie Collins. And Perk Up Your Pelmet. Betcha didn’t know you needed this!
Let’s recreate some of these design elements on a budget! I will be finding a place in my home for this beautiful peel & stick wallpaper: https://amzn.to/4cfIoYV Remember, as an Amazon Affiliate I may earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. And Thank you for using the links here. Now let’s hang this green majolica leaf plate (my favorite) on that wallpaper: https://amzn.to/4fwLdYO. I’ve also hung paper plates and even used them in the back of a shelf to highlight the dishes in front of them. My new favorite are these Caspari paper placemat hung on the wall: https://amzn.to/3YuvBif, layered under white cabbage ware plates: https://amzn.to/4fvhwr2. Now we’re getting there!
Wheat Sheaf, the style of chandelier he has, was popular during the 70’s and usually paired with Duncan Fife or Colonial style furnishings. I’d actually prefer this in our room: https://amzn.to/4d6n35G. That will get us a big impact for a modest investment. If you don’t have an upholstered headboard, treat yourself. They’re great for sitting up in bed reading, which I love to do. And they’ve become much more affordable, like this one: https://amzn.to/4c8gNZW. Again, a great deal of comfort and style for a reasonable investment. And now, you can easily change out your look seasonally with the new stretchy slipcovers: https://amzn.to/3LL1Kuq. We need a good reading lamp and we’re ready for guests. I have this one and I love it: https://amzn.to/46uExpK…Paddy, your room is ready!
sometimes, quite literally. Why are we so afraid to express ourselves? I’ve always been a maximalist. Really, from the time I was a little kid. I was in grade school or junior high when my best friend nicknamed me “the perpetual arranger.” Keep rearranging it until it relaxes you and tickles your fancy.
I have also never had any budget for decoration. I’ve been the thrift queen since high school, shopping at St. Vincent de Paul, garage sales, and the Goodwill for clothes and jewelry and lamps and rugs and cute little chairs. And when I am not wearing the green velvet jacket I don’t hang it in the closet. What a waste that would be. I drape it over the shoulders of a chair. I hang necklaces on a lamp, I pin found feathers and postcards from friends to the lampshade. I’ll drop today’s beach stone finds in the bathroom sink. A friend once asked me how I clean the sink with the stones in the way…and don’t they get toothpaste on them? I responded “they love it.” Who told you the rules?
Hutton Wilkinson says the worst thing a house can be is boring. I couldn’t agree more. Design mentor Alexandra Stoddard calls taupe boring, “…the insidious, evil, creeping taupe.” Taupe. Who needs it? Just say no. Let your house express you. Don’t you want to walk out to your kitchen in the morning and be delighted? Come home from your yearly physical and feel renewed? Let your soul play and sing here – here – where it is for you. One of my life goals is to become increasingly brave and eccentric – and embellish everything. Stand right there a minute…
This has been another tough week. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. I try to tough it out, but finally succumb to the exhaustion and call the doctor. I went in again yesterday and am back on yet another course of antibiotics. When I am nauseous and in pain I am impatient and…well, let’s just say less than gracious.
Summer has become my least favorite season for several reasons. One reason is too much activity crammed into the 3 months of warm weather. I prefer cooler weather. And less activity. Quieter. That said, I am blessed to live in a beautiful part of the country (and the world) and summer is busy with visitors. Tourists come from all over the world. Friends and family visit from all over the country. Some have cottages nearby, some rent. My darling nephew came up from Cincinnati in June with his three young girls. They stayed with me in my little one bedroom house. I took the sofa and made the 3 girls camp out on the living room floor next to me. That visit was way too short and absolutely magical. I’m still tingling with delight every time I think of it.
But I was well that week, and now I’m not. It happens that most of my peers, family and friends alike, are retired now. I’m working from home. They are on vacation; I am not. And recently a visiting relative was quite insensitive about bringing that up. Bragging actually, about not having to work in his later years. As if I were not as smart, or had done something wrong. I ignored him, considered the source and all that. The next day I offered a bit of help as they were having to move from hotel to cottage, juggling suitcases and food and outdoor gear. They inquired as to the location of a laundromat and I offered to do their laundry while they went out touristing. I was laying low trying to turn this sinus infection around; I might as well make myself useful. My generosity was responded to with another request. Sadly I have to be reminded now and again that most of my family will take a mile if you give them an inch.
But today after cooking myself some breakfast before taking all the pain medication I can safely take at one time, I caught myself feeling sorry for myself. That’s ugly. I crawled back into bed in hopes of the relief that comes only with sleep…and heard a knock on the front door. Someone knocks on my front door about 3 times a year. I do not live on the way to anywhere (on purpose) and the door is up a flight of stairs, after you’ve managed the 45 degree incline of the driveway. I’m perched high on a hill, also on purpose. The views are great, and more importantly, I’m a destination.
At the soft knock I leapt out of bed, excited. My immediate thought was that it might be a delivery of flowers! Several friends and family members know I am in bed sick and having a hard time. But it was just UPS. The box was heavy and he offered to set it inside the door. I have the kindest UPS driver, Brian, who goes above and beyond. And I was grateful. So was the cat, whose food and litter made up the weight of the box. No, that’s not true – the cat takes me for granted, too. As testament to my being a good pet owner.
And as I shuffled stiffly back to bed, I thought of how odd it was that my first thought was a flower delivery. My mother used to send flowers to me. Always pink tulips on my birthday in March. Often when she knew I was feeling down. Just a little cheer.
But she’s been gone 21 years. In those 21 years I have had exactly one flower delivery. It was dropped outside my door just after losing my sweet little beagle Odie 5 years ago. That came from a dear friend, who has also suffered too much loss and grief. She brought an orchid that is still flowering, and tea and chocolates long gone. How very thoughtful. I have received lovely notes and cards and gifts in the mail from friends, and I delight in sending them occasionally. I wish health and finances allowed for much more of that.
Why don’t we do more thoughtful acts of kindness anymore, myself included? I’m healing now, mentally and emotionally at least, from a lifetime of living with narcissists, with brutish men and defensive women. I’ve had to realize that many of my family were not nice people, albeit I understand their pain and dysfunction. I’ve had to see those traits in myself and work to overcome them. Most importantly, I’ve learned to enjoy my own company. I’m the CEO.
I did lose my patience yesterday. I was short with a dear friend and ornery with my son. All via text, while waiting in an hour long line at the pharmacy. I’m disappointed with myself. I compromised my integrity. Integrity doesn’t allow you to justify bad behavior based on your own needs. I hope I learned something and can do better in the future. My friend and my son were both quite magnanimous about it. My son texted back, “Your feelings are valid. No need for guilt. I love you and I’m grateful for you.” Sometimes words are even better than flowers.
Yesterday’s post seemed a bit preachy about what I don’t want. I beg your patience. What I DO want, and have always wanted, is freedom. Peace of mind. That’s my measurement from here on out for the rest of this incarnation, which I hope will be many more years. As Mimi would say, “good Lord willin’ and the crick don’t rise.” Do I need more exercise to pull that off? I certainly do. So thank you to my dear, dear friends and family who do continue to entice me out to share in activities. I have to pick and choose wisely right now as I am still recovering from a debilitating, albeit invisible, disease. Thank you for not giving up on me.
This delicate balance I seek to find this summer includes what feels like a huge psychological shift. Now in my 7th decade I seem to be just discovering what freedom means – specifically, to think freely. To dig down into the depths of my true being and find out what it is that I really want. Who I truly am. To stop using life energy to flail against what I don’t want. To stop protesting, to stop feeling put upon and pulled at by those around me.
Two or three nights ago now I woke, as I always do, between 3 and 4 a.m. I “heard” the voice in my head, seemingly out of nowhere, stating very clearly: “THERE IS NOTHING AGAINST YOU HERE.” Intuitively I knew that by HERE it meant, in life, on earth, for all time. There is nothing against me. There never has been. And as my old mentor Jack Boland would have said, “therefore, as night follows day…” that means that everything is FOR me.
This concept may take a minute or lifetime for me to grok. I’ll have to get back to you on this…this is what I mean when I say, “on the road to enlightenment, I’m taking the local.” I mean to get it with every cell of my being. Don’t rush me.
Please indulge this idea with me: what if everything is for you? Another long time mentor is Rob Bell. Young as he is, he is onto something. Several years ago I went to listen to him speak in his home town of Grand Rapids, Michigan. He left the evangelical mega church he was pastor of because they wouldn’t let him teach enlightenment. There’s something I might do if you asked – I’d go to hear him speak again. He leads you out – out of the restriction of your personality into your natural state of freedom. He gets it, or as he says, there is no exit strategy here. “This is not an evacuation theology…”
It’s true that I don’t want to go anywhere with you. Because I want to be nowhere with you, as in nowhere = now here.
A funny little moth flew in my living room window yesterday. At first I stared at it, wondering how it could be real. I cut a stick and some greens from the garden and let the ephemeral wisp sit in their shade before attempting to coax it gently outside again. It disappeared (doesn’t like sweet peas, perhaps?) but showed up later in the evening perched on the back of the sofa, staring at me. Softly as possible, I placed the stick in front of it to crawl upon. And slowly walked it to the door. It flew back in past me and I lost track of it. It’s stubbornly hanging around…and I apologize for being so slow to count my blessings; so reticent to pay attention. It struck me how it’s papery wings looked just like the pencil shavings I had created only seconds ago. I’m drawing again after a very long hiatus…could this be coincidence?
Then it surprised my son this morning and he caught it on a slip of paper, walked it out front to the planter box. He filled a tiny saucer with water and set it nearby – and it climbed up and drank! He is the one who looked it up: Haploa climene, the blessing moth.
My Mom’s mom, my Mimi, was born in Little Rock, Arkansas. They were dirt poor, meaning the floor was dirt in the one room cabin their father had cobbled together from found materials. He was often gone for days or weeks at a time following any work he could get. When Mimi was seven years old her mother died giving birth to a baby boy. Unable to care for him, the infant was adopted by a neighboring family and my grandmother, Mary Katherine, was raised by her older sister, Nellie, who was 11 at the time. The two girls were alone most of the time and had to trade or forage for any food they couldn’t grow.
That is all of their childhood story I know. I sure wish I knew more, but I was young when told this little bit of history. I didn’t know to ask more questions. Neither side of my family talked much about anything. Bits and pieces of that scarlet thread wended through conversation occasionally, only to be quickly brushed aside. There is so, so much I will never know.
I do not know how Mimi ended up living in Michigan, or married to my grandfather. Mimi retained somewhat of a southern accent all of her life. We kids teased her about it, but we loved it as we adored her. Whenever we did ask a question she couldn’t answer she responded, “I am not knowing.”
What is the question I didn’t want to ask? Oh, there were many, and I want to ask them now. Now that I am not afraid. Now I want to know everything. Every little thing about you, Mimi. Everything about you, Mom. Dad. I want to know my darling brother’s thoughts. Surely he had hopes and dreams he never shared. I never heard them; I never asked. Why didn’t I ask?
I can look back from the wisdom of today and know that I was always defensive. I was always being picked on, ridiculed, told that I was stupid or silly. In many ways I’m sure I was. I filled the role of family scapegoat exquisitely. They’re called family dynamics for a reason. They were not a safe space for me. I was not a safe space for them. Certainly I realize now that perhaps a braver approach would have shifted the dynamics, but hey, I guess we were all doing the best we could.
“They” say you have to drop your attachments to gain enlightenment. I don’t believe it. But I don’t believe much I hear anymore. I believe my body, my sweet animal body. Now I want all the stories. The happy, sad, true, or imagined stories. I don’t need to hold them, I just want to feel them move through me, to deepen my love for you, to know you better. I am not in the habit of asking. Please tell me.
Years before GPS existed I drove from my home in Traverse City, Michigan to stay with friends in San Fransisco. You know, I went to the AAA office and picked up my maps and itinerary. As I was getting close, I called for directions through the maze of suburbs to their home. They instructed me to meet them at a restaurant at the highway exit. It would be easier to follow them back. We came from 3 different directions and met for dinner. As we were leaving the restaurant one friend said, “oh, I have to stop at the hardware. I need an adapter to plug 2 phones into the same phone jack.” I reached into my purse and pulled one out. “Like this? Will this work?” After the laughter died down, they said, “who are you – Mary Poppins?!”
Yes. I am the real Mary Poppins. I’m magic. When you live just a tiny bit more curious than scared, life works like that. Synchronicities abound. Daily. I have more stories like that than you have time for. Thousands. In many ways it seems I have lived a charmed life. Not an easy life, but a natural life, in accordance with the laws of nature. When I can stay out of my own way, that is…
So while we are on this subject of enlightenment (…wait. what?) let’s listen to another hour long video. I promise not to make a habit of it, but these 2 are important. Because honestly, last Sunday’s video with Liz Gilbert and this one with Kyle Cease will get us free. I WANT FREE.
When I was in high school my Mom taught me to spell guru: G-U-R-U, saying that I would never need one. But I do love these two teachers. They are readily available any hour of the day if you have access to a streaming device and internet service. Here Kyle Cease describes the life experience of our culture, across generations to today. Listen all the way through to get all the gifts – to find why youare my Mom.
Because being free now sure would feel good. That’s a joke…now and free are the same thing. Do you think I’m funny? Well, jump in, let’s get on the road to enlightenment. And we will stay in our lane, I promise. We’re taking the local…
Kyle’s 12 Principles: 1) You are loved; 2) God hears you; 3) You are love; 4) You are free now; 5) You are safe; 6) You are worthy; 7) You are abundant; 8) You are magic; 9) Others forget they are loved; 10) It’s always passing; 11) Everything is perfect; 12) You are light.
Freedom is our promised birthright. Freedom. What does that even mean? I can’t speak for you. For me it means enlightenment – a lofty, etherial sounding concept – which is exactly the same thing as mental health.
My entire 70+ years I have been in a personal battle for my mental well being. Against the insanity, the slavery, of trying to live up to so many expectations. Yours. My own. My father’s, my mother’s, my loved ones, my teachers, the adults I looked to for guidance. Religious leaders, spiritual counselors, co-workers, employers, the creditors and people I owe money (phew!)…the list goes on. And on.
When will I be enough? When will my debts be paid? Well, I’m here to tell you. This oppression stops today. Say it with me: “All my debts are paid, both seen and unseen.” ALL MY DEBTS ARE PAID. I have an eternal flame in my soul and from today forward, I am throwing anything on the fire that tugs at holding me back from absolute freedom and well-being. If you feel that I owe you anything at all, monetarily or physically or emotionally, write it off now. Stop looking for me to come through for you. It’s not going to happen. I’m spent. And I am forgiving myself TODAY.
Does this mean I won’t be paying my bills? Of course not. It isn’t a negation of any responsibility. If anything, it’s stepping up for it. Does this mean you can’t count on me to keep our agreements? Of course you can; our agreements are just that. But I will behave with integrity because I can, not because I should. No more shoulding on myself. As Liz Gilbert says here, she’s done being the orderly in her family’s mental institution. I am announcing my retirement. Consider this my two minute notice.
For church today, let’s listen to Liz Gilbert. She’s figured it out ahead of us, and it might save your life. It’s an hour long video and I highly recommend you find the time any way you can. Especially if you are tired, owe money, have a stack of paperwork or emails waiting in your inbox, feel the least bit obligated anywhere. I am telling you truly – you cannot afford to wait. You can thank me later, but you don’t owe me a thing. I free you to show up in my life any way you choose.
All the “spiritual” people are talking about jumping time lines and living in fifth dimensional reality. Since about 1980 you’ve heard me saying, “on the road to enlightenment, I’m taking the local.” So are you, btw. If you are reading this from the confines of a human body, you are very much localized. Deal with it.
In this intimate, if globally public, venue here I have written about a few of my out-of-body experiences. I have travelled through time and space all of my life, waking from sleep or meditation or deep tissue bodywork into different situations fully conscious of what is happening, senses intact. It’s what some call quantum leaping I guess. It began as early as any conscious memory I have, so before I entered grade school. It’s perfectly normal to me and you will not convince me that I am unique or special in this. (I’ve seen some of you out there.) I just happen to remember. I’m sure it serves some purpose, but I’m not sure what that is.
You don’t want to get me started talking about purpose. There is a subject. A big, fat load of colonial cultish crap rolled into one brainwashing scheme if I’ve ever heard one…but I digress…let me give you the short version: the concept of PURPOSE does not interest me a whit. Just effing drop it. You’ll be happier, I promise.
Now that we’ve established that…let me explain how unique and special YOU are. Because we all are, actually, just not for the reasons you might think. In fact, thinking might just be the problem. In a recent post I confided that I am often lonely. Today I am not, and I want to talk about the difference. The difference is a shift in consciousness, in my state of mind, if you will. In my locale. I’m present today. And I woke up this way – because it is, in fact, a state of grace. We don’t make that time line shift or quantum leap into 5th dimensional thought by willing it to happen. We make it by surrendering.
Being lonely is a form of grief. Had we not known love and companionship and true connection, we could not experience loneliness. It’s a contrast. And remember I’ve said that we must be just 10% more curious about our future than afraid of it? I didn’t invent that awareness, btw, I adopted it from author Elizabeth Gilbert. You know it’s true. Your body feels it. To put it into buzz language, it “resonates.”
And herein lies the path, the local highway to enlightenment, to lightening up: my body. I cannot be fully present without being acutely aware of my body. It’s my barometer. And I was born this way. And there we have it – nothing needs to be done or learned or gotten. We were born this way.
Were each and every one of us born in exactly the right time and place? Could it possibly be otherwise? If so, you’ll need to prove that to me. Seventy plus years of life on earth have shown no evidence that it could possibly be any other way.
So, get out of the express lane. Travel with me on the local highway and let’s take every exit that looks interesting. You will lose your loneliness, your separateness, your pain, your grief. The way out is through, it’s local. It’s here now; we ride today. Come along on this adventure…this sacred, perfect now. HERE WE GO:
A Painterly Home 