photo: House to HomeA while ago I wrote about grand front entries, and I must confess, I can't really say I have ever had one. Some of you live in grand homes that naturally possess foyers that make your guests know right away that they have entered into an elegant home - one that prides itself on being character-rich and exuding an air of quality and grandeur. While that is admirable, my homes have all been more along the lines of attainable, relaxed and casual. 
I have never managed to wander over to the other side; basically because I am a very informal person. I could care less whether you serve me wine in a glass meant for red or white wine; taking out my good silverware seems like too much trouble (seeing as it requires hand washing); and I prefer a big old mug to a delicate tea cup. I like to wrap my hands around my mug of tea, as opposed to carefully balancing a china cup between my clumsy fingers. When I sit on my sofa, I want to fling my legs up on it, and the thought of formal rooms meant to be admired from afar makes me cringe inwardly. Needless to say, when you enter my home, you inevitably find proof that we live in our home...cats run in and out, children's shoes have been casually kicked aside, and mail inevitably lands on my piano - along with the odd gum wrapper, chapstick, and whatever the more messy occupants of my home toss on it. While I tidy often, I am no match for four comfortably messy people.
In my heart of hearts, I love crossing the threshold of someone's home and immediately feeling that people come and go there. Perhaps I see skipping ropes tossed across the arm of a rustic wooden bench, or a pocketful of "special" rocks placed in the purposefully placed bowl meant for keys only. I love the look of vintage hooks with a little boy's jean jacket hanging from it, a pretty pair of rubber boots lined up neatly waiting for a rainy day, a unique vessel to store umbrellas...from Strawberry Shortcake to a great Burberry-inspired plaid. The stuff of life...
Although I grumble when my kids and husband come in my front door instead of my mudroom, I understand the draw. Whether it is the convenience of popping one's head in to ask what's for dinner, or holler in a request for car keys, the cordless phone, or a drink of water on a hot day... sometimes the occasion just calls for it! I call it coming in through the out door. You're really not supposed to do it, but sometimes it is sooo much more convenient. I am learning to relax and realize that I shouldn't be the only one to be able to bend the rules (I always use the front door). Despite my desperate campaign to bar most everyone from using this entry, I have found myself adding a wooden screen door to my list of wants for the summer. Somehow, the sound of a child racing out the door to catch the bus, or join his/her friends... coupled with the inevitable squeak and slam of the wooden screen door...conjures up images of country for me. The sound is familiar, and if I close my eyes and concentrate, I can almost smell apple pie baking, hear the sound of little girls singing skipping rhymes, and bicycles skidding to a stop on gravel. 
photo: Landstil.com
If you live in a home where everyone comes in the out door, take a deep breath, close your eyes and go to my "happy place". Because someday that door will be quiet, and the skipping ropes and rubber boots will all go away...and perfection will seem like a sorry alternative to the happy sounds of a family at play.
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