My husband is all moved in now and while everything doesn’t have a place yet, it is all at least at one address. I still need to go through my closet and get rid of things I never wear and/or things he hates. He told me he likes my wardrobe, but I suspect there are things that are less than appealing to him. Then again, there are things I have owned for years that have been worn exactly once and really have no place in my closet. And then there are my glut of flip flops. Not to be confused with a glut of teaching and ruling elders, but they are quite fabulous as well. (That’s an inside joke for Grace Covenant Pres attendees who were there on Sunday for the ordination.)
The happy part of combining households has been this very tangible evidence of just how compatible we are. Our belongings match in very real ways. His couch and my chair look like a set. Our kitchen items were barely duplicated at all, albeit I only recently acquired many of these things and they are practically new because I don’t cook nearly as often as he does.
And there are the books. We have like a thousand books. Maybe more. We have multiple copies of some books – Lord of the Rings and Chronicles of Narnia most notably. We have duplicates of a bunch of movies too. But mostly we now have books out to wazoo. and it’s fun to think about the hours of time we spend together talking about so many different things, largely due to what we read and what we are interested in.
I am pretty happy about the library expansion. But I think my favorite part of the household synthesis has been the art. I suddenly have an art gallery which I always wanted, but never knew where to begin. Because I don’t create such things myself, I just had a general idea of what I should hang and where, but it wasn’t one of those things that happened. I knew I didn’t want the art you buy at Pier 1, though that is totally fine for some, and I often go to art festivals and find several pieces I would love, but have not yet once purchased any of them.
So fast forward to the day Rob comes home with a painting he did that looked like a card he drew for me and it was up on the wall and I didn’t even notice it at first. Sure, I’m not the most observant person in any given room, unless the only other person in the room was Helen Keller, but I think part of me just felt like it belonged there all along. Just like Rob.
this is not our library…