I proclaimed yesterday National "Show Me Your Front Door" Day and it was a success...I think. No one's sent me anything yet, but Nils posted pics of his lovely 19th century farmhouse on his own blog. It made me think of Louisa May Alcott and warm fires and long afternoons with a book.
Anyway, a couple of people claimed that their entryways were too cluttered/boring/ugly/whatever to participate and I guess the front entryway left a wrong impression. Family and most of our good friends come into the house via the side door (leading to the kitchen from the side garden). The reality of the clutter, I thought, might put everyone's mind to rest about just how clean Wordgirl's house is. That is to say...not so very much.
What emboldened me to reveal our seamier side of life to you is due, in part, to the fact that I just paid $184 to the pharmacy for acne medication for one kid. I thought I was going to have to ask the cashier to "get out the paddles" to restart my heart. No, the dermatologist (our first time to go) didn't say anything about the possibility of remortgaging our home in order to pay for the prescription and the thought did cross my mind momentarily. I told the pharmacist that, in addition to curing acne, this solution had better wipe out cancer and raise the dead, because if it didn't I was going to drive to the doctor's house, throw the medicine into his front yard and back over it with my car.
Anyway...after that kind of shock, I guess I'm ready to throw caution to the wind and let you see a sampling of how bad things can get. First...the door we use:
Next, what's behind it. The "mud room" which isn't supposed to get muddy. Actually, there's a little courtyard/covered porch area for that. Whatever.
Magazines my mother collected (this is only a portion of the eleventy thousand magazines she has in her house) and gave to me IN JUNE!!! They've been on the floor since then. The in-house recycling bin and the dry-erase board with everyone's memos and reminders on it.
Part of the kitchen after breakfast today. Newspapers, a bag of Halloween candy, a Nalgene bottle of water. There are approximately a dozen-plus Nalgene bottles around our house at any given moment. Like my new skeleton placemats? TARGET, baby.
This is especially indicative of the junk that piles up around our house. This is the piano in the rear living room. Here we have some freebie pens leftover from a the goody bag from a 5K we ran last week. There's a GPS device. A map. A roll of toilet paper...I have no idea why this is here or who put it here. A mailer advertising the need for identical twins for a medical study. We have no identical twins here...no twins at all. Why is this still here? One of several hundred cardboard coasters we have from a local bar that our friend owns. These are ALL OVER THE HOUSE!!
I've spared you the worst parts. The tragic condition of our bedroom closet. The boys rooms which would only make you want to run for a sharp object with which to plunge directly into your eyes. Oh...and... the smell. Yes...that, too. The spare room where someone spread out newspaper upon which to experiment with red food coloring and Elmer's glue in an attempt to make a concotion to spread over his face and simulate a 3rd degree burn (for a First Aid lesson). The laundry room (Oh..the humanity!) , and the bathrooms (not without your shots)
So there you have it. It's not perfect, but it's home. I've posted again at "Imperfect Parent" This one might even make you laugh a little. "Happy Cheeseburgers Come From Happy Cows...or something like that"