Meg Evans

I had mentioned in a post in March that I was looking for new dinnerware because I’d gotten a ceramic splinter from the chipped edge of a worn-out plate. My old Corelle set had lasted for many years, and some of the pieces were still in good condition, such as my teacups and saucers. But the pattern, called Old Town Blue, is no longer made, so I couldn’t just replace some of them unless I wanted to buy used. That wasn’t my preference; I wanted something new to bring fresh energy into my kitchen, but I also felt reluctant to let the old set go entirely.

Corelle is a much smaller company now, alas, with fewer choices. When I found a blue pattern that looked like a suitable replacement, it had only basic pieces and none of the platters, teacups, saucers, and other extra pieces that filled in my current set. Interestingly, though, the patterns were not identical. As a result, when I put the new set next to my old set, it was not an obvious mismatch. One of the pieces shown below came from the old set—can you tell which it is?

The large and medium plates are from the new set, as you probably guessed because their patterns are similar. The white bowl with the blue rim is also from the new set, and the small plate is the old pattern. So, it’s the best of both worlds; I kept the old pieces that were in good condition, while replacing the large and medium plates and the bowls (which were the most worn), and I got some “new stuff” energy.

The kitchen cabinet now looks like a much more cheerful place, which is why I tagged this post “Places.” I’m generally using that tag for posts about how my surroundings make me feel. What I have in mind is similar to feng shui decorating, also called the Chinese art of placement, in which items are carefully placed within and around a home to improve the occupants’ well-being. Sometimes I use the tag when I write about emotional imprints from places I visit. It reflects that I am still a work in progress, and my home and blog are too.

A few months ago, when I was browsing through the online library collection for the digital art display in my dining room, an image of a quaint faraway city captured my attention. Deep blue shadows on a stony hillside framed the city’s rooftops.

I put it in my favorites folder, wondering, as I did so, just what I was going to do with it. Usually I try to match the image on the art display to the ambient light coming in through my windows, so that I can trick my brain into seeing it as a “window” onto a new landscape or cityscape every day.

“Maybe in the middle of winter,” I said to myself doubtfully. That blue was quite striking, but it didn’t look like any natural light that ever came into my ordinary suburban house. Sure enough, it sat in my favorites for months, without coming close to looking like a good match.

This morning I woke up to a gloomy Monday sky that couldn’t quite make up its mind whether it wanted to snow or rain, so it split the difference by leaving the ground coated in an icy bluish glaze. Something about that color looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it until I opened the art display’s app to choose an image for the day. There it was—the deep blue cityscape—just perfect!

I’m not sure it really counts as redecorating to decide, after many years, what to do with an area of the house that never was properly decorated in the first place. Whatever it might be called, however, I feel pretty good about finally taking care of it; so I’m writing an entry here to celebrate this small accomplishment.

My kitchen has a bay window, with wooden shelves on both sides. When I moved in, I wasn’t sure how to decorate the shelves, so I just put some pretty ceramic mugs on them. I expected that something else would come to mind after a while.

Of course, we all know what happens when we put things somewhere for “a while.” We get used to seeing them in that place, and subconsciously we feel it’s where they belong. So, after I put the mugs on the shelves, there they stayed. They weren’t being used and just sat there for years and years, gathering dust. Sometimes I noticed that the window area looked boring, but I never could think of what else to put there.

Then last week it occurred to me—this is a kitchen, for goodness’ sake. Kitchen shelves are for food, not for dusty old junk. So I took down the mugs, put them in a bag for the thrift store, dusted the shelves, and filled them with jars and boxes of tasty-looking food. On the top shelves, which I needed a ladder to reach, I put mini pumpkins as a symbol of the harvest season.

Even though this doesn’t really qualify as interior decorating, but is just ordinary food that will eventually get eaten and replaced with something else on the shelf, my kitchen looks so much brighter and happier now. I can feel the cheerful energy moving through it, replacing the feelings of stagnation that used to be there.

It’s a totally free improvement, too, assuming the food does all get eaten and none of it goes to waste. Now, when I step into the kitchen and see how much better it looks, I’m left wondering what else in my life could be improved just as easily!

Last weekend after the new air conditioner was installed, I spent some time tidying up the area around it. I weeded, edged, spread some mulch, and replanted a small yucca that had been moved out of the way temporarily. My husband was very helpful carrying the bags of mulch. That area looks much better now.

I hadn’t really noticed that it needed improvement before, but that is often what happens when old stuff like a worn-out air conditioner ends up staying around too long. Other things close to it that need maintenance also get overlooked, such as the need for mulch and edging. What’s going on, as far as I can tell, is that the subconscious mind sorts it all into the general category of stuff that’s not being done yet. Then we just keep on walking past it every day without even noticing.

The converse is also true—when there’s something new and fresh around, that makes all the old neglected stuff more noticeable and becomes a powerful motivator to get things in shape. As for my yard in particular, there are a few other areas in need of mulch. If it hadn’t been for the new air conditioner, I might have ignored them a while longer, but now they seem much more obvious.

Some of my past blog entries have included photos of the willow hedge along my back property line, all of which were taken from the side facing the house. This is the first time I’ve taken a photo from this angle, showing the fence, the back of the hedge, and the grass in between:

Truth be told, until recently I couldn’t have taken a photo like this because I let the back of the hedge get awfully overgrown several years ago, when I wasn’t paying attention. Branches crowding up against the fence turned my husband’s chore of mowing the lawn into something like a jungle adventure.

Then we had two icy cold winters followed by a warm winter and a drought, which stressed the willows enough that some of the older branches started dying back. I pruned off a lot of dead stuff last summer, but it wasn’t until this year that I got the hedge in good enough shape so that my husband could easily walk behind it while pushing the mower.

With plenty of open space, it looks much better now. Getting rid of clutter and keeping things in their proper place is just as worthwhile outdoors as it is in the house!