As a married person with a house in the Midwest -- rather a wife with a house in the Midwest -- am I required to purchase mums and pumpkins and use dried cornstalks to create a shrine to the harvest season?
This thought dawned on me as I drove through town last week and noticed that even the most humble homes had such displays, sometimes including more than three bundles of straw. No display at 7787 this fall, save for the orange volunteer mum blooming in our flowerbed.Was I not paying tribute to the fall gods and doing my part as a wife and keeper of decor?
Growing up, our house always sported seasonal decor. And Mums, pumpkins, gourds, corn stalks, and scarecrows always made home feel more homey. Habits of comfort.It's ironic, then, that now that I'm in charge of making my home homey, I kind of decided to opt out of the whole harvest decor movement as a domestic protest of sorts. Kind of like a few weeks ago when I opted out of diong my husband's laundry to see how long he'd notice. Who decided women needed to do these things anyway?
That was before my parents came for a visit. Mom brought with her an orange jack-o-lantern tin filled with candy and a potted purple mum. I remembered that sometimes rituals of comfort make things feel a little warmer. Touché, Lynn. And that was before Patrick noticed the underwear shortage and pitched in with the laundry. He chipped in. Touché, honey.
I even put a pumpkin on the porch. And, yes, it seems comfortable. No harm in a little harvest. No harm in a little protest.
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