little black journal

For better or for worse, I can be incredibly sentimental. I am that person that insists on holding onto old Barbie dolls and stuffed animals on the chance that my future children will want to play with them someday. I am constantly trying to instate new traditions in our family that can be carried on for generations to come. I am nostalgic, romantic, and (sometimes) sappy. My sentimentality is why I love visiting my grandparents’ house and hearing the stories of all their belongings. It seems that every piece of furniture, every vase, every dish has a special story behind it about who made it or where it came from. Many of their things have been in the family for generations. In contrast, a tour through Shane’s and my house would go something like this: that table came from Ikea in 2007, those dishes were on sale at Crate and Barrel a couple of years ago, and that vase from Pier 1 is almost 6 years old (practically an antique by our standards!). This is the price I pay for enjoying a simple, modern, clutter-free home, and I’m ok with it. I’ve found a way to compensate for our lack of meaningful decor items – I’ve sprinkled our walls with photos of people we love and places we’ve been. One of my projects this weekend was to update our living room photo wall. The ones of Paris had to stay, but I printed out a couple newer favorites from our wedding and our Thanksgiving road trip. It’s nice to be surrounded by reminders of the people and places that have blessed us. I’m a sucker for a happy memory.