Posts tagged ‘subway tile’
What does a life look like that is designed with love? Margaret inherited her mother’s house with the words, “Make this house a home.” Margaret is finding out what that means.
(Continued from Chapter 3) “Where have you been?” asks Toni. In the basement. That’s where Margaret found herself after throwing out the box of donuts, brewing a fresh pot of coffee and doing the week-old dishes. Her laundry is done and, truth be told, she tossed out half of it after reading in the Tidy book that you should only keep the things you love. When she read those words, her heart simultaneously leapt and sank.
The idea of surrounding herself with things she loved excited her, but she didn’t think she had anything that she love loved. And if she went through her stuff one thing at a time and felt for the love – what if she felt nothing? Because, as you may know by now, she has felt something close to nothing for a long time. Fortunately, that is changing and now she is on the lookout for blessings! And, well… she’s kinda still waiting.
Francis gazes at Margaret from the kitchen table. He observes that Margaret, like most people (when they’ve become ready), want to receive a big
HELLO! from the universe, and they want to have that big hello on a consistent basis. Like all the time. And the universe is more than willing to give you a cosmic high-five all the time, because frankly life IS one big cosmic high-five, but if, for 30 – 40 years, you’ve been getting your cosmic high-five from donuts, coffee, TV, people, work, etc., the More Subtle and Sublime Consistent High-Fives might go unnoticed. You could even call it a cosmic hug, thinks Francis, as he stretches out on the table otherwise known (only to him) as “His Place” or “His Rightly Place.”
He likes to think deep thoughts there. Deep thoughts about the cosmos, catnip, and how to communicate better with the humans. He likes the kitchen table because it resides in what humans call The Breakfast Nook. In this breakfast nook, there are windows that look upon the world, namely Margaret’s Side Yard.
When he decided to take Margaret’s domain and make it and its human-dweller his, it wasn’t only because she lived in a Craftsman-style house (which he has a slight preference for), but it was because she never seemed to leave the house. Since he is getting on in feline years, he appreciates this, as he finds sleeping next to a body-warmer the size of Margaret (as difficult as this may be to admit) comforting. She seems to like it too.
He is very interested, or rather, slightly interested in the recent flurry of activity that Margaret has been engaged in. This is new in his experience of Margaret. Just the other day, she revealed to him that the bathroom actually had a floor. Previously, he had thought it was made of a cloud of colored towels but instead, there was tile. Very nice tile. Francis likes to pride himself on his taste, and although the towel-cloud was more comfortable for sleeping, he finds the tile floor soothing. It fits his sense of decorum.
Francis is a house-worldly cat, and knows a thing or two about dwellings, and particularly dwellings that have life in them, and dwellings that don’t. His thoughts are interrupted by a flash of movement as Margaret throws something into the trash but missed. He pounces.
“Get rid of everything,” continues Toni. “But what if I’m left with nothing?” asks Margaret. She can hear Toni making tea in the background. “You just let go of the stuff you don’t need anymore; and yeah, there might be some growing pains, but you just watch. All kinds of good stuff will start to shine. Good stuff you never even imagined.”
Toni has always been like this, even when her life wasn’t going so great, she always could see the bright side. “It’s like your house,” Toni continues. “You’ve got this amazing house that your mom left you.” “It’s not really me, though” says Margaret.
“You can make it you,” answers Toni. “That house has good bones.” Margaret sighs. She used to describe Sam that way. “He’s got good bones.” And yes, Sam did have good bones, physically-speaking, he was your strong, silent type with the jawline and build to prove it; but when Margaret said that Sam had good bones she meant his structure; his foundation, his core – not all that stuff on the outside (although that didn’t hurt). She was in love with his bones until his bones walked out the front door a month after her mother died.
“Hello?” says Toni. “Sorry, I was distracted by Francis. He’s attacking my old sock like he’s some kind of ferocious animal. (Francis ignores this comment by the favored yet ignorant human.) “Did you hear what I said, though?” asks Toni. “Yeah. I did. I guess I never looked at this place that way. I need a new pair of glasses.” “Well,” says Toni, “It sounds like you’re getting them.”
This is the fourth installment in a weekly series about aspirational living. Micheline Auger is a New York-based writer who loves all things Modwalls.
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