Home sweet home

I wanted to start this off with the phrase “I own a husband who … ” but then I said it outloud and thought, hmmm. I don’t OWN a husband. I’m married to one.
Any-who. Said man in this household loves change. Not cents, mind you. Change. As in the moment the carpet begins to settle under the pressure of a piece of furniture it must be moved.
I’ve been complimented on the decorating of our house, which I do take care of. But only the small things. Color’s, misc accessories, some flavor to the feel etc. However the most pleasing thing about our house is usually how it’s set up, how it’s arranged.
I never do this. He is the mastermind behind the “flow” of each and every room. The feeling it might evoke in you to sit down and stay awhile or have a conversation.
Our first house was more than half the size of our current house and that one? that one I could arrange. I could figure it out and I enjoyed doing it. I also lived there alone for 6 months so I had the final say in most things for a while, any way. I liked that, too.

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Oh how I loved that house.
However with all the square footage we have in this house we still don’t have much more furniture – and there’s just a ton of empty space. I’m not a fan of spacial coordination or whatever it is you need in order to figure out how to make a huge room look and feel inviting without making it look cluttered – AND while still utilizing all the square footage to the mostest. (Yes, I said mostest. I wanted to.)
Good thing I married someone who understands and like this stuff. Not only does he like it – he thrives on it. And wants it to be different and more functional some how every 3 months or so.
Great! Go for it! But I don’t want to help or try to think through it with you. It gives me a headache and feels like I’m swimming in a sea of sludge. Literally. My brain just doesn’t function that way. At least not in big open spaces.

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