I think it was about eight or nine years ago that we first got our brown tweed sofa and loveseat from some big box store or another. We preferred the fabric to leather that was highly fashionable at the time because it was *warmer*. Leather feels so cold to the touch.

We used those sofas well and when they were worn out we had to go out and buy another set for the living room.

Our living room is small. So many things don’t fit.

We did find a leather set, off white (now that most of the kids have moved away and there’s just my teen son), but when it arrived it was different from what we ordered and we sent it back.

High and low we searched–and it was boring, boring, boring! Trying to find something that both my hubby and I could live with is very difficult.

We so often end with some variation of brown or beige.

In the end the only sofa set we could agree on was also tweed, but it was so much lighter than the old one–we were sure!

So we had it delivered.

Except for a bit of stitching on the front of the old sofa, it was almost identical!

Oh how I laughed. And I thought there must be some kind of lesson in there somewhere.

The new set did however come with a new bunch of cushions, and when one of my son in laws came by the week after we’d gotten it he plopped down and said, “Oh, you got new cushions!”


Other guests did not find it so amusing.

We had a family event not too much longer after that and I thought this would be a funny anecdote to relate to them. But after I’d related it, one of my relatives said, “Why do you do things like THAT?” In a tone that made it sound like I was some kind of an idiot.


The other guests that were there just looked away and said nothing. And there was the awkwardest of silences while someone thought of something to say.

And yet, I still do think it’s funny. And nothing to be ashamed of.

And maybe the lesson in it is that people will gravitate to what they like, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Fashion trends be damned.

I live in a small townhouse condominium.

Many people buy the big trophy house, with lots of bedrooms and lots of windows and the fancy schmancy this and that, and when the kids all move out and the house echoes because it’s too big for an old couple, and when they can no longer keep up with the yard work, they downsize and get a small condo.

Well we skipped the big trophy house step and have stayed with our small condo.

Ever so gradually we’ve upgraded things to our liking. It was specially nice when we got the automatic garage door opener.

But fancy it isn’t.

I learned long ago that no matter what you buy in order to impress other people, you will always find someone with something fancier, so competing in terms of home decor is an effort in futility.

My house will never look as though it came out of Home & Garden.

That’s just not my priority.

I don’t feel like spending hours with fabric swatches and tile samples and interior decorators. I mean, really, life’s for more important things, right?

And yet it came time to redo the kitchen.

The cabinets, the floor, the backsplash and one thing I did yearn for–for the sheer beauty of it–a granite counter top.

And while we were at it, we might as well tile the bathrooms right?

The tile I chose for the upstairs bathroom was a terracotta type, on the darkish brown side with splashes of blue and other hues mixed in. I chose it because the upstairs bathroom is beige and white (the two colours hubby and I can always agree on!). I wanted a more *dramatic* floor. And with the picture of the Southwestern desert in a wooden frame and the wooden cabinet that I had in mind, it would really bring the whole thing together, or so I thought.

Hubby placed the tiles down on the floor so we could see how we liked them.

After a few days he put the other ones we’d gotten for the kitchen and downstairs bathroom down, and they were a lot lighter. (but in my opinion blah)

The tiler’s coming on Thursday. Hubby thought the dark tiles were too dark. So we went to the big box hardware store and chose new ones. These were much lighter!

They still had the splotches of blue, but they weren’t as dour.

Brought them home and they’re the exact same colour!!!

I could only laugh!

Hubby was not so amused.

And on top of all this stuff happening, one of my daughters admonished me today.

My daughters are such dear souls, they don’t want me to become like some other authors theyve met who are so LA DEE DA full of themselves.

I count on my daughters to keep my ego in check, so when this daughter said that I needed to be careful of how I came across, I listened.

Apparently a couple of weeks ago the same son in law who’d noticed the ‘new cushions’ had complimented me in passing on WANTING MOR, which he’d read, and instead of being gracious, I’d said, “I know it’s good…” and went on to make some other point I was trying not to forget.

She said it came across as so haughty and she knew I wasn’t like that.


It’s just something I have to watch.

Thing is my writing is something I do take pride in.

It’s my ‘showcase’ kind of. Not my cooking, not my sofas, not the colour of my bathroom or kitchen tiles, but my writing. The produce of my imagination and hard editing.

I’ve always had to fight conceit with regards to it, because darn it, I think everything I’ve written has merit and everything I’ve published is pretty darn good.

Isn’t it false modesty to say otherwise?

And yet she’s right. It’s very odious to hear someone react to compliments in such a way and say that stuff about their own work.

So chew, chew, and chew some more, then swallow this bit of humble pie. It tastes like sawdust, but I know it’s good for me.

And get ready for the rest of the renovations!

And while I’m at it, hope to goodness that we’ve chosen well, and we won’t get sick of these brown and bluish terracotta type tiles.