Craftiness is handed down in my family. Mom, aside from loving glitter and gold spray paint, has an art degree. Dad spends his free time with woodworking or soaking up all the woodworking and cooking shows on PBS. Sister Jessica sews and makes jewelry and cooks some pretty tasty stuff. And brother Carl… well, maybe that craftiness skipped him. Oh well. We still love him, and he’s got his own set of special redeeming qualities.
My parents’ biggest crafty project has been their dream house for retirement, up on a hill, in the middle of an old corn field, in southern Wisconsin. This is where we are gathered this week, to enjoy each others’ company and to let the dogs run.
and to relax.
My parents have made this place awesome. My dad built all the cabinetry for the kitchens and bathrooms. We as a family painted all the beautiful, peaceful rooms one hot July on vacation. My mom has curated a decoration scheme almost completely from the local thrift store. She has built a collection of items that, on their own are frankly weird, but together, they are beautiful and make this place feel like home.
it’s all quirky. Some of these the things she’s found are outrageous. But every single thing, moment, and thought Mom and Dad have put into this house has created this oasis that I call home, even though none of us live here permanently.