My great-great-great grandfather built a corner hutch for his daughter, Anna. As his work day came to a close, he sawed and sanded, no doubt working well into the night by light of a kerosene lamp. The workmanship proves the love poured into each smooth line, each scalloped edge. Sadly, when Anna died, no one much cared for the poor hutch. It sat alone and abandoned, until my great grandmother, Etta Mae, saved it. She and her husband stored it in their old barn until they moved to “the city;” the little corner hutch had a home, once again.
Loved ever since, it now resides in my living room, meek and unassuming . . .
Yet something dastardly lurked behind its doors . . .
Many somethings to be precise; basically, anything that would fit . . .
I would just like to take a moment to explain: this house offers wretched storage space–what little is available is often misshapen, requiring contortions to retrieve anything actually stored there. Naturally, I would like to blame it all on this fact, but who are we kidding? And while I’ve learned to grab what I need without throwing the piles off kilter, I knew the time had come to face the misery head-on.
Obviously, God never intended me to be a DIY blogger–I cannot take a good photo indoors to save my life and I always forget the interim photos. So I’ll simply sum my goings-on: I took out, I sorted (keep, rid, donate), I carefully replaced what remained.
So it was my hutch came to look like this . . .
Perfect? Not likely. But I like to think it’s a little closer to what it was intended: the safe keeping of those things that make for lazy morning coffees, impromptu afternoon teas, large family gatherings–the things that bring and keep us together.
This post was inspired by Jules, of Pancakes & French Fries, and her William Morris Project. Basically, she has committed to living according the William Morris quote, “Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” She’s inviting us to do the same. After all, living with intent is the only way to live.