Let’s talk for a second about the Sundance Catalog site and catalog, shall we?

I’m not a big catalog shopper.  And I’m really not into the type of “country” decorating that makes use of lots of little pastel pink geese or delft blue flowered wallpaper.  It’s not that there’s anything wrong with it, but it’s just totally not me.  And it’s not my husband, either.  Thank God.

(Of course, if left to his own devices, thanks to childhood programming and his relentless drive to rebel against something, his style is  all about the gothy black punky bachelor-pad type lava lamps and black and silver. Yes, I know I used the word “black” twice.  It’s to emphasize the point.  Ugh.  I outgrew rebellion-by-goth in my late teens, and I ain’t goin’ back, man.  Just for the record.)

A while back, and I’m not sure how, exactly, now that it’s been a zillion years….I found the Sundance Catalog.

Can you hear the angelic chorus in the background?

It says something to me that through all the purges of extraneous stuff I’ve had over the years (always re-amassing a load of crap I don’t need later, but at the time, very thorough clear-outs…), I still have many of the catalogs I’ve received.    (I get maybe one a year, so it’s not like it’s a big stack.  But I did somehow keep all but maybe one or two.)  For me to keep them, and refer back to them, says things about me, most likely.  Or at least about what my fantasy life is.

I feel like the home is my responsibility.  That making a nice, clean, decorated one is my contribution to the family, even when that family consists of just my husband and me, and our four dogs.  (Yes, I said four.  There was a temporary addition over the weekend.  A tiny little jack-russell-type dog was outside our door and wouldn’t leave.  We’re looking for her owner, but we’re fond of her.  She might stay.  This is why I need babies…to stop the relentless inflow of dogs.)  I feel that making a home to which my husband can not only invite our friends, but also which makes him feel welcomed and relaxed and at home is a very important part of my “job” as a wife.

It’s not easy with him.  He’s grown up in a great deal of chaos.  His parents are both hoarders, possibly of a clinical type even.  Their 12,000 square foot home (that’s not a typo.  Twelve *thousand* square feet of space, including an indoor pool that’s unfinished, and seven bedrooms, four bathrooms.  Seriously.) is ENTIRELY FULL OF USELESS STUFF.  Stuff they’ve bought at auctions, garage sales, and dollar stores cover every room.  No surface is uncluttered.  All the closets and drawers are full of unnecessary items that were a bargain.

Thinking about their home makes me need a little lie-down to recouperate.  It very honestly makes me tired, and a little bit unable to think.  I can’t deal with that much clutter, though my tendencies to collect it are just as strong.

For him, this clutter is normal.  So we’re constantly fighting the battle against having too much stuff.  My tolerance level is so much lower than his, it’s scary, and a source of friction between us.

But that’s not what I set out to write about.

If it was up to me, and my life was ideal and I had some kind of magic money tree that sprouted hundred-dollar-bills every day, I’d live in the Sundance Catalog.  It’s country, but it’s that New Country — more ranchlike and cabin-y than duck-and-goosey.  Lots of wrought iron and kilim fabrics, clean lines and antique, recycled woods, all made by artisans rather than factories.  The art is well-selected, the accessories are evocative of one’s life and travels.  There is enough storage, and no clutter.

The bedroom above (picture ruthlessly ganked from the website) is what I’d do with my rooms, if I could.  Plaster-colored walls, warm fabrics and woods, inviting-looking linens.

This is the kind of home I want to make for us.  Lives pared down to the essentials so we can be with each other and not be distracted by all our stuff.  Beautiful, but in a simple way.

As my house gets cleaner through this Project,  I want to dissect this catalog.  Find what it is about it that gets under my skin and makes me want to live in its pages.  Find the parts of it that are so appealing and emulate them, but with a twist that fits both my husband and I.

Today has been amazing, largely due to the Project.  I was in bed last night at a reasonable hour, WITH my husband, rather than long after him.  I was up early, made him breakfast, started dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and continued cleaning up the house, and still managed to get my work-for-money done in the meantime.  I’m feeling the urge, after cleaning my physical space, to clean up my virtual one, too, and for the first time in probably five years, my email has been answered on-time and the number in the inbox is less than ten.  I’m so much more on top of things.

I’m anticipating that as the project goes on, and my surroundings express more of what’s really me, and I’m focusing on my marriage and on my duties within it, this trend will continue.  That life will only continue to get easier when I let go of the expectations of the world and just focus on what I require of me, and what my husband desires of me.

Harmony.  I’m starting to hear the first refrains, and I can’t wait for more.