|"Ornate" is not a favored |
adjective when describing
furniture that needs dusting.
I'd never want a monstrosity
like this in my house.
My mom's beloved Victorian parlor organ stretched floor to ceiling on the north wall. With its spindles, mirrors, and shelves buried in doilies and knickknacks, dusting presented a formidable challenge. Maddeningly, it lacked the satisfaction of a job well-done. A week's dust accumulation wouldn't make a convincing "before" and "after" photo diptych, yet, Mom wanted it spotless, so I dutifully removed and wiped down each knickknack, and carried every doily outside for a good shaking. Once the organ shone, back they went onto the shelves.
Unsurprisingly, I birthed the idea that, as an adult, I wouldn't have knickknacks; surprisingly, perhaps, I've stuck to it. Hence, our home lacks useless decoration, save a handful of framed photos, and a trio of plates hung in the enclosed--and virtually dust-free--built-in china cabinets. At an open house at our former abode, one potential buyer asked, "Is this house vacant?" (It wasn't).
|I don't count this photo of my |
mother-in-law as a knickknack.
|Sorry, hubby, but I don't want|
this in my living room.
When I nixed the living room, he proposed the music studio. He'd even settle for the closet. But, I have a better idea:
How about on my mom's parlor organ?