COUNTRY FRENCH

One thing I love about finally being in our forever home, is not having to worry about "resale." At long last, I can muck it up with as much color as my little heart desires. Plus, I no longer have to worry about keeping my furnishings in style or up to date, so that the younger prospective buyers can easily picture themselves in it. That really hit home this week, when I was thinking about my dining room chairs.

Their cushions are in desperate need of replacement. They are the ones we always grab and take with us when we go to a movie at The Corral, since those vintage metal lawn chairs are hard on the tailbone after a while. Well, one summer we forgot to bring them back into house when we got home, and they sat in my steaming hot car all the next day. Ever since then, whenever our dining room gets warm and sunny, our whole living area starts to smell like burning rubber. So, not only do we need to have six fancy new box cushion covers with ties and contrasting piping made, we need all new inserts too...and they're not square, they're sort of wedge-shaped...and none of the pillow inserts I saw at the craft store were the right size, even if I were to cut them to shape. So, for a while there, I actually considered replacing those chairs altogether. I thought perhaps I should order something a bit more contemporary from one of the catalogs so popular with young people, like maybe West Elm. But then I came to my senses and said "Screw it!"

You see, I really, really love those wicker chairs we had made in Indonesia, with just a hint of Country French in their lines. I love comfy-cozy furniture, not the sleek, hard and uninviting stuff that's "in" now. And, since we don't plan to be putting this house on the market anytime in the near future, why not keep what I love, instead of replacing it with whatever appeals to the masses? Which is why, of course, whenever we went house-hunting in the past, it was always so painfully obvious when a house had been occupied by comfortably-settled "old" people.

The downside to being in our forever home is long-term maintenance. Jeezy-peazy, who knew it could be such a b__ch? There are definitely certain advantages to buying new, and moving out before anything needs repainting or replacing -- especially if you are married to someone who is a whiz at repairing electronics and keeping them in good shape, but not so much when it comes to household stuff. Plus, this house was built in '96, and has all it's original appliances, a.c. and heating, pumps, etc. Our washer and dryer aren't much newer. So, what if they all crap out at once? (And, yes, I do realize that those of you who are from old world countries, where anything built in the last century is considered "new", think me insane.)

While we're on the subject of "Country French", I have one more set of photos from the Dallas Arboretum to share with you. Years ago, when I was living in the Dallas area, the Arboretum invited various architects to enter designs for a treehouse competition. The winning designs were then constructed there on the grounds and left up for several months, so that visitors could come see them. Some were absolutely amazing! Later, after we moved away, I got word from the landscape architect I had worked for there, that she and her hubby had entered a similar competition for playhouses, and had won! Unfortunately, I never made it back in time to see it. During our recent visit, I spotted what looked like two adorable little playhouses, and went over to get a closer look. I'm not sure if they were kept after one of these competitions, or what. All I know is that I fell madly in love with them! So, if you are a huge fan of the Impressionists, as I am, but can't actually make it to Provence any time soon, just head to the Dallas Arboretum to see their interpretations, in playhouse form, of...

Van Gogh's Sunflowers:

Monet's Gardens and Bridges: