If my home had to pick just one décor style, it would probably sigh dramatically, change the subject, and point you toward the monkey lamps. My style is a little eclectic, a little bohemian, a little farmhouse, and a whole lot of “this made me smile, so it lives here now.”

It is not a house that looks as if a designer arrived with a clipboard and a strict color palette. It is more like a very friendly committee meeting between inherited treasures, thrift shop finds, resale-shop surprises, old wood, soft fabrics, green plants, and the occasional object that absolutely cannot explain itself but has excellent personality.

Most of the things in my home have either been with me forever, came from someone I loved, or jumped into my cart at a thrift store while I was minding my own business. There are inherited pieces that carry memories, old wooden trunks that look like they know secrets, and accent pieces that have earned their place simply by making me happy.

I love the warmth of wood and natural colors, but I also have a weakness for soft fabrics and deep, vibrant shades. Apparently, my design philosophy is… give me calm earth tones, then hand me something jewel-colored and see what happens.

There are oriental planters filled with green things, because every room needs a little life and a few leaves acting like they pay rent. The plants are tucked among old trunks, simple wooden lines, and wall pieces that bring texture without trying too hard.

And then there are the lamps. Monkey lamps, quirky lights, soft glows in corners—because plants deserve ambiance too. If I am going to water them, talk to them, and occasionally apologize for forgetting them, the least I can do is give them flattering lighting.

The floors are covered with new rugs that look like old souls. Faded colors, traditional patterns, soft underfoot, and just enough charm to make footsteps sound less like a marching band. They warm up the rooms and soften the edges of everyday life.

My walls and tabletops hold signs, artwork, inherited treasures, metal pieces, and anything that speaks to my love of words and sayings. Some people collect fine art. I collect pieces that wink at me from across the room and say, “You know you need me.”

These days, I am learning the delicate art of paring down. The years have brought me to a place where I want to enjoy what still speaks to me, while gently letting go of the things I have kept out of habit, hesitation, or the very convincing argument of “but I might use it someday.”

The designers and organizers of the world tell us to keep only what brings joy. I understand the idea, though I do believe some objects bring joy, some bring memory, and some bring the mystery of why on earth I still own them. The trick is figuring out which category each one belongs in.

My home is not minimal, but it is becoming more intentional. It is not perfectly styled, but it is deeply personal. It is full of wood, color, plants, rugs, old things, odd things, useful things, sentimental things, and just enough whimsy to keep it from taking itself too seriously.

It all adds up to a home that feels collected, comfortable, layered, and lived in. A little eclectic. A little bohemian. A little farmhouse. And, thankfully, not one bit boring…  As my granddaughter once said, “You have some weird and cool stuff.” 

I DO.  In the end, my style is- IT MAKES ME HAPPY…