When I was little and the Sears Christmas Wish Book would arrive, I’d lie down on the floor, legs splayed out, elbows propped up, and turn page after wonderful page for what seemed like hours. It was undoubtedly less. I am almost certain a fight would ensue between me and my sisters. The screams reverberated through the thin walls of the living room to the kitchen where our mother was preparing dinner. “It’s my turn” an indignant Jo-Jo would holler while her little fist took a swing at my head.
Pages would be pulled from the catalog as the battle ensued. I wanted one of the playhouses. Not the log cabin, though I thought that was cool. I wanted the white shingled house with the pink shutters and front door to match. It should come as no surprise to you – my regular reader that I still want that house – only slightly larger, and while I do admire a person with the pluck to paint their front door pink, I would choose some lovely version of blue. It’s my favorite color.
All this catalog reminiscing got me thinking about what my dream catalog would hold today. I’d replace my No. 2 pencil and the yellow lined paper pad that I had taken from next to the telephone table, with a ultra fine tipped black pilot pen and one of my personalized notecards rimmed in pale violet – what? this is an important list. It deserves a little gravitas.
I would put on that list all the beautiful furnishings, wall coverings, accessories and art that I believe would finally, and with absolute assurance, bring me the clarity that I have been sorely lacking, to make a move with this living room of mine. Wishes are just dreams that start with a list, and one’s chances of making it a reality improve exponentially when you write that list down and look at it often.
What’s on your list dear reader?
