The first time I laid eyes on my “first home” I was euphoric. My babies and I were living in one room in my parent’s house and I desperately wanted a place of our own. I could not wait to get them nestled in and make this place our cozy haven. We were HOME.

I was five at the time and my babies were a rag tag collection of dolls I had gathered since birth and my new home was a dilapidated plywood saddle-house built on railroad ties that my dad had trailered home for me.  I was blind to its flaws and the smells it had absorbed in its previous life on the feedlot.  When I looked at the weathered wood and the crookedly chain sawed Dutch style door, I saw my dream house. I white-washed the walls as high as my scrawny five- year- old arms could reach and soon my pink metal kitchen gleamed against the new paint. The kitchen was complete.  My babies were stacked in one corner several baby layers tall as I only had one crib and I covered them up with their one blanket (unnecessary in the triple digit summer of the California desert but ‘cozy’ was important to me as a mother) This was the nursery.  I sat on the floor in the opposite corner surrounded by books and barely noticed when I got a sliver in my (always) bare feet from the roughly hewed plank floor. I was in MY living-room.

Home and family would always be my heart.

Fifty-eight years later I thankfully sit in my weathered leather chair instead of on the floor, surrounded by books and my feet are still bare.  Home and family are still at the heart of my heart.  But we have a new baby, a little shop around the corner called Pretty in Paint.  I find myself at the helm of a home décor and furniture store.  This is unbelievable to me for a number of reasons.  I recently read a blog about the ten biggest decorating mistakes you should never make in your home.  I managed to nail all ten in my own home.  I deemed myself a decorating disaster.  But wait, I love our home.  It is my sanctuary.  It is where I love my people.  It is where we gather with our friends and family over food.  Our home is where we put our feet on the furniture, spill the milk and feed the dog, the cat, the chickens horse and donkey.  It is where I painted bold colors.  Where I lay on the wall-to-wall carpet (heaven forbid) and play with the grandkids.

Our homes are OUR homes.  Where we should be surrounded by the people and things that bring us true joy despite what the decorating gurus dictate what is trendy and in style. Our little store will continue to provide furniture and décor that is trendy and stylish but ultimately what makes your house your haven is your heart.  Please don’t be afraid to follow it.  It will always lead you HOME.



One thought on “HAVING A BABY AT 63

  1. Charles Ott says:

    Good thing there is only one of you Cindy ….. the world is not ready for two of you. Good photo of you and ahhhhhhhhhh what is his name again?

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