Decorating taste has hit a bump

A friend paid me a compliment recently about my decorating abilities.

“Your taste has evolved so much,” she said.

OK, so that also means my taste level wasn’t great before. When she first got to know me 20-plus years ago, I had a few obsessive collections: Snoopy, metal lunchboxes, children’s books. A plastic Snoopy shower curtain is not good taste?

I would watch decorating shows (this was before Pinterest) and try a few DIY projects. I remember one attempt at making my own curtains by wadding a bunch of material around the curtain rod. I was so proud. I shouldn’t have been.

I’m pretty happy with the decor in my house right now because it matches my personality and reflects my change toward a more modern look. I have a red couch and a zebra rug. I love original artwork and have as much as possible.

When my younger son moved out a few years ago, my husband and I were ripping up the carpet in his bedroom within a few hours. I created a beautiful guestroom with crystal lamps, chalk-painted furniture (even a piece I did myself) and luxurious bedding, all in soothing neutral colors.

Sometimes I just stand and look at the room’s perfection.

Then there’s my other son’s old bedroom. It’s the junk drawer of bedrooms.

We kept his old bedroom furniture, along with all his books, senior pictures, family photos and one of our prized possessions, a Keith Polled Hereford Sale sign I found in an old barn on my husband’s family’s farm.

But the room evolved into my husband’s office/storage room. A University of Central Arkansas journalism teacher, he is working on his doctorate; all he lacks is writing the dissertation. The room has stacks and stacks of material he’s printed off the computer, some teetering on tops of boxes that contain … I’m not sure what.

The closet in the room is full of toys and books from our son’s childhood, as well as Halloween costumes and some out-of-season clothes.

And now some tiny, adorable clothes.

The new purpose for the room is for my soon-to-arrive granddaughter, Kennedy. It’s where I’ve stored some baby gear, including a car seat, patiently waiting for a passenger. My sister-in-law loaned me a crib, and my husband set it up last week. It barely fits between the bookshelf and the dresser.

It is not ideal, but baby Kennedy needs a place to sleep when she comes to stay with Mimi (and … whatever my husband finally decides he wants to be called).

I told my husband he might have to find a new place to store his mounds of research. I’m definitely giving my son back his neon

Razorback sign that is more fitting for a college dorm room. The sign clashes with the little pink-and-blue crib

quilt I’m using that was his as a baby. The deer antlers on the shelf might have to go in storage till my fall decorating.

When I look at the room, I am overwhelmed with what to do. I might get my Snoopy collection out of storage and

throw it into the mix. At this point, it couldn’t hurt.

My friend might want to rethink her compliment.

Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 3270370 or tkeith@arkansas online.