Beauty and usefulness
Last summer, we had a new fence built in the back yard. As part of the project, we also had (what turned out to be quite a lot of) pea gravel delivered to shore up those areas around the house that needed a bit of a refresh. Pea gravel is a good medium for me to work with, as it is small and easy to shovel and move around. I was pleased with the overall aesthetic result, but flummoxed by an unintended consequence.
By tidying up the areas along the sides of the house, I lost the various corners and crannies in which I had stored different things that just didn’t fit anywhere else: pots and planters that I know I’ll need one day; bits and bobs that will surely be just the thing at some point; scraps of lumber that are just too precious to chuck.
But none of any of that was suitable anymore against the pristine and beautiful new pea gravel, carefully shovelled and than raked to look Zen-like in its fresh state. Some stuff I chucked, some I moved into the garage, and some I put out into the back lane from whence it disappeared (one person’s junk being another’s treasure, as we all know).
And still, the unintended consequence remained. I no longer had those various corners or crannies. And that brought to mind William Morris, the 19th century British textile designer, and our kitchen junk drawer.
William Morris because he said, “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.” I’m extending the notion of ‘house’ to include the outside property; therefore, because the pea gravel is both useful and beautiful, it is covered on both counts.
Our kitchen junk drawer is definitely not beautiful but it is hugely useful, containing everything from the tea cozy to a set of screw drivers and our collection of tape measures. So the drawer is covered on one of the two important counts.
Fruit or Pomegranate
by William Morris
But having lost the not beautiful but definitely useful corners and crannies in the back yard by incorporating the both beautiful and useful new pea gravel, I am going to amend Morris’s golden rule as follows: “Know that your possessions should be either useful or beautiful and know, also, that when something is both beautiful and useful you may need to metaphorically — or actually — dent it for it to genuinely serve your needs.”
And on that note, I am going to claim the spot between our garage and the neighbour’s as the new corner where I can safely and happily store the odds and ends that inevitably crop up in a gardener’s life. William Morris will just have to turn a blind eye.
- - - - -
A Post a Day in May No. 31 For the past two years, I have posted something to this blog every single day in May. Today’s post marks completion for the third year in a row. Thank you for reading.
"Fruit or Pomegranate by William Morris (1834-1896). Original from The MET Museum. Digitally enhanced by rawpixel." by Free Public Domain Illustrations by rawpixel is licensed under CC BY 2.0
Everyone needs a room of her own -- and a kitchen drawer for odds and ends that don't belong. Anywhere. Ours contains first of all, Band-Aids, for cooks who cut things, including fingers. And that oven probe that is invaluable when cooking a turkey twice a year but never used other wise. And permanent sharpies to mark freezer bags so I know what that amorphous lump is. And those long syringe-looking things we use to pill the cat, not that the current cat has ever needed it, but you never know.
ReplyDeleteBefore we remodeled the kitchen, the drawer was in another location, and the refrigerator door protruded in front of it a couple of inches. For years it could only be slightly opened, and what went in often god pushed to the back, never to be seen again. We called it the funny drawer. Then one day, while the fridge door was open, I pull out the funny drawer. All the way. The answer to its accessibility had been right beside me all the time.
Duh.
Bravo Amanda !
ReplyDeleteAnother May challenge brilliantly accomplished !
Thank you for 31 enjoyable readings.
I guess it comes down to how you define beauty. Zen gardens are very beautiful, of course, as are minimalist interiors. Personally, I like a garden that's a bit overgrown, and has secret wee corners for extra flowerpots to pile up, and bunnies to hide in. I think William Morris would agree!
ReplyDeleteAmanda! - thank you for a month of lovely essays. <3