There is a beautiful song by Miranda Lambert called "The House that Built Me" that has been playing on the local country station. I can't get enough of this song. Every time I hear it I want to drive up to Duluth, where I grew up, and sit on the front porch of my childhood home and watch the world fly by.
I know they say you can't go home again
I just had to come back one last time
Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam
But these hand prints on the front steps are mine
Up those stairs, in that little back bedroom
Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar
And I bet you didn't know, under that live oak
My favorite dog is buried in the yard
I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
This brokenness inside me might start healing
Out here it's like I'm someone else
I thought that maybe I could find myself
If I could walk around, I swear I'll leave
Won't take nothing but a memory
From the house that built me
After hearing the opening lyrics, I'm hooked and now I've downloaded the song from iTunes so that I can listen to it, on demand. You see, I miss "home" sometimes. I think we all do at some point. Life was so simple back then. I had a little bedroom that I loved with no TV, just a radio that was always tuned to 101.7, the oldies station. You might be surprised but I know most of the lyrics to the major hits anywhere between the 1940's through the 1960's. I used to shut myself in my room for the whole day, designing elaborate Barbie doll houses made from paper butter cartons and scrap cardboard I rescued from the trash. This was the beginning of my love for design and the building process.
I was lucky to have relaxed parents who did not have an interior designer (if they had a designer she surely would have hated dealing with me!). My parents let me redecorate my room whenever I wanted and I usually did this every six months. I had many little businesses to raise money for the redesigns. It was such fun, to experiment with abandon. My favorite scheme involved pepto-pink millwork, key lime green walls, and a blue "sky" complete with white clouds on the ceiling. My bedding was a bright melon-inspired plaid with a floral compliment. I loved everything about that room.
So, thank you, to my mom and dad, for always letting me experiment on your walls. Thanks for raising me in a great house that was always under construction; it made me who I am today and I love that. Thank you for encouraging me to follow my dream of making rooms pretty.