How one comes to live by the seasons

There's two things on this planet I like. I like to decorate and I like to write. And I like to drive my family crazy doing it. Ok, that's three.

I've been a professional writer for more than 30 years. I've been an amateur interior decorator for nearly 20. Since I bought my first home in the early 90s, I felt compelled to turn my entire house upside down every time the seasons change. It started with Christmas, then Halloween, and then autumn décor crept into the mix. Now, I decorate and redecorate every time the calendar page turns.

I blame this on my mother. My mother worked full time and kept a tidy, stylish home despite a husband that traveled most of the years and two rambunctious kids that couldn't pick up after themselves. The secret to her success was being unmovable. Not her, but her stuff. Once pictures went on the walls or a flower arrangement was placed on the table, it never moved. Nope, never. And putting up the Christmas tree was always a fight. Deep down in my soul, I knew that the Christmas tree should go up the day after Thanksgiving. My mother would be happy if it went up Christmas Eve and it had better be down by Dec. 26. The sameness drove me nuts. For real, apparently.

Somewhere along the way, I discovered sewing. That discovery came courtesy of my husband. He loves sports. I hate sports. I learned that I hated sports less if I had something to do besides sit there and stare at the TV. So I took up sewing… and then a little painting and then, well suddenly I had a sewing room, which evolved into a crafting room, which is now a studio outfitted with four sewing machines and all the high-tech gadgetry Michaels, Joann's and Hobby Lobby have to offer. And I haven't even touched on the village, but I will. Oh, I will.

So, please join my on an adventure, as I live by the seasons.