HOME: GARDENS

w
the ’80s, this décor item will be
imprinted in your memory. In our
home in Belmont Street, continental
pillows were big news (literally and
figuratively); all the beds had one
– or more!
By the time I went to university, we had so many oversized pillowcases
in every conceivable colour that one could make a full-size parachute. (I
later learned in res that those very pillowcases made handy laundry bags; I
reckon that was my first successful upcycling project.)
During one of our recent monthly planning meetings, while sifting
through photographs of the new houses we’d like to feature, someone
pointed out that several of the homes featured “oversized items”. And so
our décor story on page 64 was conceptualised, suggesting ways to work
with oversized items in your home – from headboards to tiles.
While putting the article together, I started thinking about my own home.
In our special issue, Home Kitchen, which was on shelf earlier this year,
I described the island in my kitchen which rather dominates the space.
Just the other day, a cousin from Pretoria was visiting and she remarked
on my “lovely and big” island. I told her that it might be big but it still
becomes cluttered – and so much more quickly than a smaller one.
Because the more space you have, the more stuff you accumulate…
I had a quiet chuckle to myself, because that island is not the only
“oversized” accessory in my house.
Let me explain: at the end of last year, I applied to adopt a dog from an
animal rescue organisation. MacKenzie, a beautiful wire-haired greyhound
who loves people but hates all other dogs with a passion, became a
member of my household. She suffered from separation anxiety and on
the recommendation of that same rescue organisation, I got another
pooch: a small cross-breed who isn’t afraid of anything. He was young,
barely three months old – a little thing with massive paws.
Long story short: after a nasty incident in a park, MacKenzie was
‘re-homed’ and she now lives on a farm where she doesn’t have to tolerate
any other dogs. And so it was just me and the little tyke in the house.
But… he’s no longer so little. In fact, it’s time he stopped growing.
His name is Asgat (the vet always chuckles at this term of endearment)
and, apart from the kitchen island, he is now the oversized item in
my house.
He sprawls across the sofa.
He snores me out of bed.
And when he’s in the station wagon, the luggage is consigned to the
back seat.
But, as huge as he is, I wouldn’t swop him for the world. Besides, rather
Asgat on my bed than a pile of continental pillows!