A hectic weekend ferrying kids to parties, tennis tournaments and the Snowman at the Festival Theatre. The delight on my son and daughter’s face as the boy, James, rolls ever larger snowballs back and forth across the stage was magical and the dancing Snowmen in the second half a delight. My kids are desperate to find the snowman toys I gave them each 2 years ago and I can’t wait to watch The Snowman and the Snow Dog with them on Christmas Eve. The hijacking of this beloved children’s character to sell a fizzy drink sits uneasily with me.
My friend’s daughter’s birthday party at Clownaround was also a success. Faced with trekking into town, after failing to find the Disney Princess Halma beads I knew she wanted locally, I had a rare moment of sanity. My daughter’s Princess beads and instructions were at home and I could just as easily wrap up those.
Children’s parties aren’t something I usually look forward to. I once got disinvited from a 2 year old’s birthday party by a friend. My kids were still invited but since they don’t drive and aren’t generally allowed out alone the logistics of that scenario proved impractical. My friendships are important to me, and whilst I can’t always give my friends the time they deserve I try not to take them for granted or neglect them.
If only I’d chosen my friends with the same consideration given to my curtains. I’ve been drooling over the same ones now for over 3 months, but until I repainted the dining area of my kitchen Fossil, I didn’t have a room to put them in. I don’t adhere to the design rule that curtains should either add contrast or blend into a chosen colour scheme. If I have curtains in my home they need to be in fabric I simply cannot live without. They need to add something to a room, besides blocking out light and annoying, chilly draughts. I almost have to wish they were a dress and console myself with curtains because there’s nowhere I could wear such lavish creations.
Which brings me to the point of today’s post. If we only bought the things we loved, there’d be no need for sales. I wouldn’t be spending my next weekend sorting through unwanted clothes and presents to make room for this year’s haul.
I want to create more and consume less. I want to work with artists to bring their work to a wider audience in a more affordable way. I want to create stuff with people who inspire me and concentrate on spending time with those I love, not getting rid of stuff I never loved or writing cards to friends I never had.
Cherish what you have and add only what is missing. It won’t be advertised, or on sale, but hidden in a corner somewhere, waiting to be found.