The Gland is Secreting

The Spouse has been known to comment at length on "the gland" which "secretes", requiring me to rearrange the furniture. This is a pleasant little joke which makes him happy so I endure it. It is true that at times I have been struck by nothing less than whim and he has come home to find everything repositioned according to a combination of fung shui and caprice. Sometimes it has been motivated by seeing a Pottery Barn catalog and deciding that instead of shopping I'll just rearrange what I have. (I enjoy shopping for home goods and I dream of the day when I will forage out to buy a Le Corbusier couch. For reasons which will become rapidly apparent, that day is many years hence).

Looking at objects with a fresh eye is, by the way, a principle of interior design. We can become inured to our own posessions, failing to appreciate their beauty or to recognize that we no longer find them beautiful.

There are other occasions when I am motivated by more practical considerations and today (or the next few days...not sure when I'll get to it) is one of those.

First of all, having a puppy is not unlike having a baby in the house, or in this case, a toddler. And as is the way of all toddlers, The Dog is pushing the boundaries. Over the course of the weekend he chewed The Spouse's glasses, the toes of my super fantastic shoes and started holes in the arms of BOTH the leather chairs in the living room. In response to all this we are doing exactly what we should, asserting our alpha-ness. He is only allowed to chew designated dog toys and he is not allowed on the chairs. He's responding pretty well to all this, which is great. The glasses were repaired for free, the shoes can potentially be replaced but the chairs are another matter.

I expect I'll come up with something more permanent than the throws that are currently covering the holes. But the problem is bigger than that. The chairs stand in front of the window, which is where Dog goes to see who's at the door and to bark his puppy greetings to other dogs walking past. Which means he gets into the chairs frequently. Which means that, once he's there, he might as well work on that lovely hole. I figure it can't hurt to remove the temptation, or in this case, move the temptation.

And so, one day soon, The Spouse will come home and the living room will be rearranged. I'm thinking of something intimate and cosy...it is autumn after all and time for gathering closer to the hearth. The current arrangement doesn't really facilitate that. I will endure his mocking and then I will cosy up on the seemingly new room, admire the play of lamplight on a silver bowl which I forgot I had and dream of the day when, toothless old dog at my side, I am sitting on a Le Corbusier couch.