I think where we came from can have alot to do with who we are today.
This is a little shed I pass nearly every day in someone’s field. When I come across images such as this, I feel comfort. And I don’t think it’s JUST because of that wonderful worn red patina and gorgeous landscape.
I gravitate towards collecting all things weather worn. I always have. I’ve tried to break free of it and rode through the ‘new crafty clean’ stuff, but those things always got replaced with my first love.
I’m a girl! I’m suppose to like sewing and cooking and makeup and new clothes, right? But you see me pass a junk pile full of this kind of stuff, and I’ll give that girly stuff up in a red hot second for this. What I see here is beauty in shape, form, tone and theme.
So, I decorate with a style that grasps what’s embedded in me. Which, in my eyes, is time worn, weathered, non fussy and comfortable. A blog friend Laura defined my style as ‘rustic chic.’ Perfect. 🙂
What’s responsible for what I love? I think I have an idea.
When you grow up on 40 acres of farmland, have a hayloft for hide and seek and rope swings, and a tire swing out in the backyard for your main play area, that tends to stay with you. Our front yard was this side field in front of the barn. My blanket full of Barbies under the bing cherry tree landed here more times than the count of dandelions you see. Nature was my playhouse and barnwood was the backdrop.
It was a good life. Even as a kid, I appreciated the acreage. My parents spoiled me with horses so I got to enjoy every square inch of the farmscape you see here.
And so did my brothers. You can’t see it in this pic, but there was a painted line across the road in front of the house that was their ‘drag strip.’ 🙂 Lots of dark clouds and noise are memories of times past. And the scratchy Beatles tunes belting out from their rooms. Oh. I happen to love the Beatles too!
This is my Dad and one of my brothers on our tractor. I drove that thing many times during hay season for it was labeled ‘my job’. Dad would tell me to round up a bunch of guys from school (oh darn…) and we’d have a hay session late into the night when it was time. You never delayed picking up the hay when it was ready. It was hay season or bust. Oh the stories I could tell you!!
The memories of the farm life lingered on well past my Dad’s passing 18 years ago. My Mom had touches of where she came from as well. A cow was always a well sought after object, simply because it evoked wonderful memories of times past.
One afternoon while visiting my Mom, I was inspired to strip her mantel clean of all things peach and flowers, and give her a new look. All the trinkets you see here are authentic from our farm or family background, so it was a mantlescape of memories for certain. I think it was a little too rustic for her liking, but she was a good sport and left it up for a month or two. 🙂 She knew I was having fun and enjoyed watching my passion at work.
And… what better day to reflect on where you came from than on Father’s Day! Here’s a little about the first guy I ever fell in love with, my Dad. (Happy FD Dad, miss you!)
I remember the itchy suits he wore in church, and the Sen Sen hidden in his suit pocket he’d eat at church so he’d stay awake. The funny little plastic black comb he’d carry at all times. The jeans and flannel shirts he lived in, the gumboots that were his favorite footwear, and his prized jean jacket I have hanging in my own closet.
He smiled and laughed alot. I don’t remember him being grumpy much. Except when I went to the neighbors and told them I was collecting money for the red cross and wanted to buy candy instead. (my friend and I got sooo busted!)
Oh yeah. And then there was the time the cows got out and I helped him round them up late at night. As we were running full force to keep them in the field, he ran smack into a barbed wire fence. It’s the only time I heard him swear. 🙂
He even got me an extra horse at one point so he could go riding with me.
He was Santa at my school one year. I didn’t know it at the time, but he approached me there with that big smile of his and I felt so loved. As soon as he left, I realized it was him!
My Dad was cool. He watched Sonny and Cher with us, laughed through Gilligan’s Island and cried when Little House on the Praire aired. Wasn’t that show hard to swallow?!? I think I cried during every episode. But I loved Gilligan the most with my Dad because I liked to hear and watch him giggle. 🙂
I remember my Mom being all about laundry and cooking and weeding the garden. But Dad was all about barn, acreage, rusty nails, old buildings, and cows. I’m not sure if I was running away from the kitchen or I simply desired the outdoors more. Maybe both. But I just really liked where Dad hung out.
To this day, the kitchen is not my hobby. I gravitate towards mowing the lawn, decorating my gardens with rusty relics, and being in the sunshine and wind. Give me some waterfront and I’ll never leave. Being outdoors relaxes me, taking me away and offers up memories on where I came from. Wide open spaces! Nothing like it.
Now that both my parents are gone, hot tears come easily when I think of them, but I also know they are together. And that brings me great joy. I celebrate that and am always thinking, KUDOS, you two! You did it!
My son and I pray every night for them and if I forget, my son reminds me. We thank God for taking care of the two most precious beings I’ll ever encounter. My son is cute. He talks about Grandpa like he knows and misses him as I do. And they’ve never met.
We also have a special story time at night. My son will ask me to tell him a story, but not from a book. He wants a childhood memory of mine instead. I love this tradition and I love that my son wants to know more. The talk of memories keeps me close to my roots.
This is where I come from. And will belong for the rest of my days. I’m truly a farmer’s daughter, even decor wise. 🙂
How about you?
Do you find your background has an influence on how you decorate?