I once lived in a house that hated me.

No matter what I tried to do for it

update the kitchen




decorate with angels and lace

buy pretty drapes


it resisted.


I could decide to hang up the newest picture

of my first grandbaby

and find myself standing on a stepstool

surrounded by bunches of bent nails

because the walls had turned to stone

because they knew I wanted to hang a picture.


It was a cold house to boot.

It had radiators

which were nice and warm

as long as you stood close by them.

But when you walked away

you were struck by circles of chills

so that you could never get cozy in your robe at night.


Sometimes when Wes was working late

I swear I could hear people walking around

talking

upstairs.

It was a darn good thing

that we had a bathroom downstairs too

because no way would I go up there alone after it got dark.


Water ran crooked out of faucets

light bulbs blew out weekly

weird moths infested the butler's pantry

the floors seemed always wet

plants died

the house was dark




so I was glad when Wes decided

it was too far from work

and we moved away from it.



Since we are not rich folk

we had to buy a fixer-upper

for our next house.


But oh it was so sweet!

When I hung pretty priscilla curtains

you could just see it smile and preen!


It loved me.

So of course I loved it back.

It cooperated with anything I wanted to do.


It had plastic tiles in the kitchen

which of course you are not supposed to paper over

anybody knows that

but I decided to do it anyway

because the tiles were in bad shape

and that house helped me

by smoothing broken corners and hiding gouges

so that you could barely tell there were tiles under the wallpaper!


It had a stream running through the yard




full of turtles and crawdaddies

a perfect place for my now three

grandbabies to play.


Plus a treehouse!




Nobody ever got hurt

nothing bad ever happened

in that house.




But the house got small

the grandkids got big

and Wes needed a house with an office in it.



The house that we live in now

is more formal

than the cute little country house that we left.


It seems to like me okay

but it has a mind of its own

in regards to what it wants to look like.


At first I put up country curtains

in the main bathroom

and it hissed at me everytime I walked in there.

It sure didn't like country.


So all of my grapevine wreaths

ruffled plaques

country hats

priscilla curtains


are downstairs in boxes.


What this house likes

is my dolls.

They are scattered throughout the house

one tucked here




another tucked there




among the no-nonsense type of wall adornments

that it likes.



Oh I know you might think I'm crazy

talking about the personalities of my houses

their likes and dislikes


but I think most women know what I mean.




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