I’ve always loved cream as a colour for interiors. When I moved into my own little house some years ago, the living room was just a sea of cream with some nice little accent colours to break up the neutral.
I had a cream fabric sofa, a beautiful fire place, cream tables (many of which I up cycled myself), cream candle holders, cream photo frames-you get the picture.
Actually, you probably don’t get the picture because I have no pictures of decor. Just pictures of Boo as a baby with the cream in the background.
It was a bit of a culture shock when we moved to the farm. All of the furniture and accessories came with us and I thought it would be fine.
Surely all feet get wiped. All shoes are removed and no one would dare to sit on a cream sofa with dirty jeans, right?
Then we had G who has trashed everything. We no longer have a lamp on the side table in the living room because he thew it on the floor and broke it. He even broke the table it was sitting on. Such is life with my biggest boy. He is a whirlwind.
Up until recently, the only ornament I had I in there was a lovely, gold, stag head reed diffuser. I did keep catching him with the reeds and chastised him but now? It is on a high shelf out of reach and there are no decorative items in the living room again.
The cream fabric sofa has been replaced with a much more practical brown leather and I do see how this works so much better because you can wife it clean.
The thing is though, I do still dream of a time when I can have a lovely side table at the side of my green arm chair (if indeed that has not been ruined by that time) and a country-style globe on a book case.
Maybe a lovely table like we had before and a lamp. I don’t want much.
I know that the years of small children are short so I am definitely not wishing it away and, to be fair, when they are old enough not to break anything, they will probably still be too dirty for a cream house-especially if their father is anything to go by.
I suppose everyone has a dream.
My dream is cream.