I’ve never been a fan of knick-knacks in my home, even to the point of being accuse of liking a “cold” and “uninviting” look. Maybe it can be traced back to my childhood chore of dusting the house – including the piano. The family piano is more a display case and less an instrument. I took only 3 years before giving up because I wasn’t any good. My mother plays well, just not often.
Maybe my OCD tendencies keep me from having too many figurines – after all the fewer I have the less worry there is about something being out of place. Or not being aligned perfectly with true north. Or something equally as neurotic.
The few items I do have are symbolic, and considered worth of the trouble to dust around them. The jar of unity sand from our wedding represents our intertwined lives. The fake Bush’s cans with “Chesnutt Hill” on the label represent my husband’s insistence on buying something to decorate a kitchen he’s never in.
Two of my favorites, however, seem out of place to even those who love dust collectors…I mean thingamajigs. Despite my farmhouse style in the majority of our house, the master bedroom is a more modern look. The walls are painted a rich, dark teal. The room accessories, including the bedspread, are gun metal and black – save the bear and the bird on my nightstand.
A few years ago I visited my sister and her family for the weekend – nothing out of the ordinary. I can’t remember the specifics, but the Princess said/did something to hurt my feelings. As an apology, she brought me the care bear as her way of saying “I’m sorry.” To this day, the bear hangs out in the black lamp on my nightstand.
Just recently, while cleaning out the office, Jay found the bird and put it on my nightstand to keep the bear company. Birdie was a gift from my Mamaw. Of course she certainly knows better than to think the bird is the type of home décor I enjoy (she bought me my super awesome comforter after all). The tiny little statue has a much more interesting story behind it.
Each year around Christmas time (usually the Saturday before) my family gathers at my house for an evening to hang out and be silly together. Set aside is the stress of cooking holiday food (we have soup, sandwiches) as well as the stress which goes hand-in-hand with gift shopping/giving. Instead, we keep it pretty simple.
The rules for our “dirty Santa” game state that each individual wanting to participate must find at least 1 item from their home that they no longer want. The item might be useful to someone else, or it might be something they end up throwing in the garbage. One year I was the lucky recipient of a 20 year old bathroom hand towel. (I now use it for a sweat towel at the gym.) Birdie is a reminder to me of all the crazy-fun my family has together.
Some call it “curio” others “crap” but to me, these baubles are symbols of the love my family shares with me.