Vol. 1 - Decluttering the Main Living Floor
Chapter 2: The Living Room (now called The Evening Salon)
When I first moved back to our family home, the living room contained leftover boxes of stuff. Stuff that I’d call junk. Stuff I’m pretty sure others would consider junk, too. The living room was also where I stored my own bins and moving boxes for a short period of time. However, I knew I’d take care of them sooner rather than later because I can’t stand looking at visual disorder for very long.
During the effort to gather all of the office supplies scattered all over this floor of the house, I was able to move at least some of the boxes that were carefully hidden behind a small sofa into the dining room while I was sorting all that out. We moved some bigger furniture out and into the family room in the back in order to make room for my own furniture that would live here in this front room.
After some weeks of taking time for rest, grieving and decompression, the urge hit to move things around to an aesthetically pleasing aspect. Finally the bulk of boxes were removed and what remained were boxes of records and unknown items. These were thoughtfully camouflaged with blankets so that they looked like a table for plants by the window. The boxes containing records we never wanted were artfully disguised under the piano.
With these leftover piles of boxed clutter, I didn’t pressure myself to clear it all at once. As time and conditions allowed, we slowly worked our way through those boxes. Somewhere along the way, I emptied out a storage unit full of stuff from my Oma’s garage. That stuff included treasures such as my Oma and Opa’s paintings - which we’ve hung throughout the house - and those Christmas ornaments and lots of china and crystal and delicate thrifty type stuff.
In that collection, we found a trunk belonging to my Opa that they packed with their belongings when they immigrated from Germany in the late 1940s. It’s such a family treasure! It has my Opa’s name and NYC address and some steamer stickers.
Circling back to clearing out the living room of things that do not belong in a living room, I became more or less content with the progress I had made. Between removing junk and replacing it with my own possessions, it was as though the room let out a sigh of relief.
I remember one morning, I came down early and sat in the living room just to gaze about. As one does when they like their home surroundings. I could feel the house breathing in and out. It felt as if it had been holding its breath for a really long time because it was just stuffed with stuff it didn’t need. As its breath came back, so did its life.
A few months back, I finally removed the last of the records that my Dad’s friend gave him decades ago that were artfully disguised under the piano. For the first time in my living memory, as far as the eye can see now, there is no strategically covered clutter.
Well, at least in the middle of the room. We still have my mother’s records stacked in a corner but you’d never know it because they’re covered by a blanket and it all just blends in. (There may just be another ‘Brilliant Idea’ post about making some sort of nice-looking rack to hold those records. So stay tuned!)
There’s also thrifty-type items stuffed into the lower bookcases behind doors that I’ll need to go through eventually. But doors are made to hide the less organized things, right?
Now that I can see the actual room, I’m dreaming up plans for redecorating it. We have some repair work on the ceiling in the music alcove to do, along with upgrading the crown moulding to match what’s in the rest of the room. I’d like to repaint it and the floors need to be redone to match the rest of the flooring throughout the first floor. I have an idea for the tv in the corner, which shall remain a secret until I’ve accomplished it!
More than anything, our living room, which has been renamed the ‘Evening Salon,’ is another extremely pleasant room to spend time in. It’s comfortable, cozy - especially with the fire going - and showcases the beauty of the architecture of our home and the memories we’ve made here as a family over the decades. It’s a wonderful thing to be the next steward of our home’s story.
