Monday, September 22, 2014

Avoca dreaming

Oh Avoca. Is there anywhere else in the world that can make me feel worse about my domestic sluttery than you?

I wander around your gorgeousness and dream of a kitchen with a huge Aga, where mismatched antique dinner plates and bountiful floral arrangements would sit effortlessly side by side.

My living room would have coordinated cushions and luxurious blankets strewn across a big beautiful sofa, and all would be clean, stylish and perfect.

However....seeing as I am over 40 and still borrowing money from my mother it's a pretty safe bet this is never going to happen.

And so instead I look to see what little piece of beauty I can take home to buy into the dream - even on a small scale.

I consider the lovely ceramic door knobs for a moment. Using these I could upcycle the cheap plywood dresser we have and it would look wonderful - eclectic and artistic.

Or perhaps I could make my work desk a place of inspiration and nostalgia with these.

Or the bathroom - reorganised with beautiful bottles and old fashioned lotions and potions.

After much procrastinating and price tag checking I wander into the food area and wonder whether I should just settle on the big chocolate and pecan cake instead.

Time to go

Eventually, when the kids are well and truly over it all, I go for something cheaper than the phone, easier than the door knobs, and longer lasting than the cake. Something that not even I can go wrong with - two sweet little china cups that I can use for morning coffee. Not too expensive, not too grand, but enough to bring a little of the dream back with me.

When I get home I arrange them artfully beside the kettle and stand back to consider them for a moment.

But much to my dismay the kitchen does not miraculously change into a Country Homes scene, where a three-tiered Victoria sponge sits waiting on the big wooden table and my smiling children in hand-knitted jumpers sit quietly reading.

No. It all still looks exactly the same. The dishes haven't been done. The washing is still hanging over doors and chairs. The floor still hasn't been mopped in a week. And the kids are still slapping each other.

Except now there are two little beacons of disappointment staring back at me amid the chaos.

Pfft. Next time I'm just going to buy the bloody cake.

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