Kate's Five Things #54
The lightbulbs I didn't buy, and other evidence I'm still growing up
I went to Target to buy lightbulbs and left with a bath mat, two frozen lasagnas (BOGO), and a citronella candle shaped like a lemon. I did not leave with lightbulbs. Just that familiar sinking feeling that follows me out automatic doors.
It happens all the time. I walk into stores with such good intentions and walk out confused, holding plastic bags full of proof that my brain short-circuits under fluorescent lighting.
The part that bugs me most isn't the ugly lemon candle or my apparent inability to complete a simple errand. It's how I stood there for a full five minutes, staring at rows of bulbs, completely frozen between "soft white" and "natural white" like it was some kind of moral decision. I couldn't remember if the lamp needed the big screw or the little one. What is that part even called? The nub? The twist thing? I didn't bother with Google because that would be admitting defeat. So I just stood there for a while and then wandered off to buy things nobody asked for.
When I was 24, I couldn’t imagine myself as a grown woman with a house, some kids, and a husband. I thought if I could picture it, I might find the outline of a shape I could grow into. But all I saw was blankness.
Now I'm past 40, well beyond what I once considered "youth," living smack in the middle of that future I couldn't see, still failing to buy proper lightbulbs for the house I never imagined owning. And guess what? I still can't see ten years ahead. Still blank.
Turns out grown-up things don't make us grown up. Living with uncertainty does. Showing up anyway does.
I got home, dumped my bag on the table, and fed the people I love in the house that keeps us held, safe, and together. The lamp still dark, I light the weird lemon candle anyway, in honor of the future I cannot see.
We forget that's the whole point. Being here, in this messy, half-lit now. Learning to stop white-knuckling a life we're lucky to have at all.
House Call Last Week…
On House Call…
Last week, I wrote about unfinished spaces and how our homes are in conversation with our lives. Here’s a snippet:
There’s a kind of unspoken confidence that comes from not rushing decisions you’re not ready to make. From letting a room stay awkward or underwhelming while you wait for the right idea, or the right timing, or enough money to do it properly. It’s not glamorous, but it’s solid. It’s grown-up in a way that doesn’t get much credit.
Five Questions (for you and me)
When did you feel most at home this week?
Doing homework around the kitchen table, listening to my kids share jokes and big thoughts about history, life, and their part in it.
Where are you moving forward?
Not constantly bracing for bad news or an unexpected setback.
Where are you stuck?
A nice nighttime reading session has seduced me, so my early mornings have slid out of reach. I’m not really stuck, just aware that I find it hard to unwind after the day right now. This feels heavier than when I started my day early. I like to fall to sleep feeling like I gave it my best try, rather than fighting to steal a moment of joy before sleep. Early to bed, early to work best for my overall health, but pleasure needs a seat at the table, too.
What did you consume that was regenerative?
This soup.
What question are you asking?
Do I trust myself without a map?
Your turn. Pen to paper, or whatever works.
Five Things I am Using and Loving
An abundance of grocery store chamomile flowers
The most cheerful little blooms. They’re my favorite flowers to bring home, usually cheaper than peonies or tulips, and they last longer, too. You can get three bundles for under $20 and scatter them throughout the house in little vases.Euthymol Whitening Toothpaste
The pink paste on my brush each morning feels like a pleasant surprise. It tingles with a medicinal sting. The good kind. The packaging is delightful.Motif Abundance Cleanser
This cleanser feels like it's doing something beyond mere removal. It calls itself a cleanser and a plumping mask, and has a texture that you’d expect— a sort of paste-like feel. It’s really hydrating and I like leaving it on for an extra minute while tidying up the bedroom.Rag and Bone Mom Bag
I was gifted this bag, and it immediately became the only one I want to use. This is because it’s huge, big enough for all the things I haul around with me— laptop, water bottle, everyone else’s discarded crap. But what makes it special is this beautiful, tiny pocket right where my hand first reaches, like it understands how a bag needs to support someone carrying their life in one bag.These bright and cheerful grandpa sneakers (currently on sale)
All I can say is they are easy to get on and I feel like Jerry Seinfeld when I wear them.Rooms of Our Own
This week, we’re hearing from Laura in Mazama, on life transitions, letting things be, and collecting a feeling of home.
“We moved into this house in Mazama, WA having left the tech scene in Seattle/Bellingham to take advantage of working remotely and be outdoors. We thought it would be temporary but here we are two years later. We moved into this little schoolhouse on this drop dead gorgeous property and the house came with ikea bookshelves mounted to the walls. I was so put off by them and am over the ikea phase of life, plus I hate clutter and looking at things everywhere so truthfully they felt like a nightmare. But over time I’ve grown to love them. We organized the books in genres, lessons, and his and hers and I’m really happy that we have a place to display all of our books in a beautiful way because we are voracious readers. We have art, mostly my art and my partners photographs, sprinkled through your the house, but the pieces near the books get such good light they needed to be colorful. Plants, in my opinion, are just as aesthetic as other decor and for me it’s so nice to look at something alive everyday.
I love the desire to gather a collective feeling of home.
To me, home embodies the memories, the spirit and energy, and the personas of the living beings who inhabit it. It’s their presence you feel the moment you walk in the door. It’s not the “stuff” inside, but rather the memories associated; that dreary weekend you devoured a book in one sitting, the telescope you got to show your dad the craters of the moon on, or the map hanging on the wall that reminds you of your former life. Home is so much more than a dwelling. Home captures all the pieces of us that are tangible and represented in things. But more than anything, it’s a feeling of who you are.” - Laura
We need more submissions! Have a corner of home that feels true? Send a photo and a few words to kate@housecall.com.
Until next week,
Kate
P.S. The most beautiful homes are never the most composed ones.
I really resonated with your note about being unable to unwind after a long day. I’ve been struggling with that a lot lately. I feel like I’m getting up early, getting my routine done and feeling accomplished, but by the end of the day, I feel like I can’t rest or wind down. It’s nice to hear that I’m not alone.