Bookmarks Evoke Caretaking
That sigh as one finishes a novel and closes it, then fingers the bookmark that once was held in the book.
That bookmark brings me to a topic that’s been on the brain recently: stewardship. Being appointed a caretaker for things– things like land and a home. Being a good steward would mean having a beautiful home, but also not accumulating debt to make it beautiful. It also reminds me of something Just’In and I often told our realtor as we considered homes to buy:
“That just takes lots of work; we’re not afraid of work.”
I’ve dreamed for awhile now of posting photos of my home on my favorite blog; after all, we as caretakers also control the content of our homes on the inside as well as the sturdiness of the walls and roof. But I keep thinking, “Oh, my home isn’t blog-worthy until I finish this project. Until I paint this wall and take the paint swatch off that has been there for years, it’s not pretty enough to be on a design blog.”
But it’s pretty enough to live in. That paint swatch stays because it represents a desire for slightly better stewardship: the desire for that white wall to be a different color, yes. Also, maybe I’ll get outside earlier this spring and weed my garden beds, earlier than I did last year. Maybe I can plant something on that side of the driveway to make it look more appealing.
I’m angry and sad to say that much of it stems from money: “when we have enough money, we’ll get that rock path paved with bricks.” It’s not just the work that is lacking; in some instances, we know we don’t have resources, knowledge and skill to level and brick our own property. Even if we applied work to learn it, there’s still the money.
Ugh. What an adult limitation. So I try to squelch thoughts like that and continue running my bookmark through my fingers. This bookmark is a beautiful ribbon from Toby’s stash of Valentines this year. Some mom used glue with it, and I don’t remember who gave it to us or what form the ribbon took. She was wonderfully resourceful, and when her Valentine is pulled apart, I got a beautiful bookmark. I didn’t have to change the ribbon at all. She had already cut it so it wouldn’t fray, and I love everything about it.
Maybe if I just keep the hope alive and continue to look for things that can be altered simply, my hopes will be fulfilled. If I put in the work, the solutions to slightly better stewardship will appear on a thrift store shelf.
Oh, the messy intertwining of work, money, and beauty. Right now, it eludes me.