Hodge Podge Home Decor

I recently called on my innermost female instincts. I embarked upon a task so daunting, that few women will attempt it anymore. But it's in our blood, in our very chromosomes.

I made drapes for my bedroom. We moved into our brand new house about 8 or 9 months ago, and decorating has been painfully slow, what with chasing a 2 year old around, starting a new business (www.perrincothranconrad.com), joining Junior League, being sick multiple times, you name it. I made some headway about 2 weeks ago, though, when I took my carefully selected, beautiful bolt of fabric out of the closet and said, "Today is the day." Well, ended up being more like 3 or 4 days, but that's beside the point. The point is, I DID IT! I got on my mother's sewing machine, and with some instruction from her, I made drapes for our three bedroom windows. They even hang from the rod with tabs and all . . . and that took me an extra half a day, at least. But deep down within, I felt useful. I felt resourceful. I felt that I was joining a club of sorts, and doing something that trillions of women have done before me (not to say that men can't sew, too, but . . . ). I really felt like a WOMAN! HEAR ME ROAR! I MADE CURTAINS! And then, I even hung them up myself, using Hubby's drill to put up the rods. Hubby was duly impressed, particularly after I told him how many hundreds of dollars I saved us by sewing them myself.

Now what shall I tackle next? It's hard to say. But what's really bothering me right now is the river of tin foil cascading from the bunny ears in the living room. Yes, we are dinosaurs with no cable. Neither Hubby nor I had cable when we got married, still don't want it, still don't have it. Now that we live in the country, this means extra hoop-jumping just to get the regular channels. We still simply don't get ABC, which means no "Dancing with the Stars." So our tv, which was a lovely housewarming gift from brothers in law and sisters in law, hangs on the wall with wires a-dangling beneath and connected to rabbit ears, which sit atop a stereo speaker on the adjacent bookshelf. That's where the tin foil comes in, cascading from said bunny ears halfway down the shelves. Yeah, you might be a redneck if . . .