The other evening I was having dinner at my friend's house and noticed this book on her coffee table. It of course caught my eye with the fun typeface and cover styling. I commented on it and asked how she liked it. She (being the giving person she is) offered it to me to borrow. I declined. I have this odd issue with borrowing things from people. I dread that I will somehow destroy it or forget to ever return it and I really like to own something for myself. I did however go home and reserve it at my local library (to see if it was worthy of a purchase)....6 holds before me so my hope was to be reading it by mid-January. Perfect.
The next day I am sitting on my couch as Isabelle came running in holding this very book. "Mommy, someone left this for you on our porch." Before even looking at the card that accompanied it I knew that my sweet friend had gone out and purchased me my very own copy. And I was right. I am one of those people whose love language is gifts....which always makes me feel like I am really vain or selfish, it seems lowest on the totem pole of love languages...but I really do feel loved when people give me gifts. When I received this book from my friend it made me feel so loved. She thought of me and knew I would devour this book page by page (as I have). She knew I would love owning a copy of my very own rather than borrowing it from the library. She knew.
Decorating is a passion of mine. Houses are a passion of mine. Imperfection being perfection is a passion of mine. This book has it all. Read it, but be warned there are 7 holds on it at the library.