I have mentioned before that my mama keeps a beautiful home. In fact, her idea of heaven on earth would be to have four or five days of blissful alone time so that she could dust every single picture frame, clean vast expanses of baseboards and wash each window with her homemade glass-cleaning solution (wiping only with newspaper, girls. only with newspaper. paper towels leave pesky streaks). And then, for kicks, she would launder all her table linens, hang them up to dry, and press them to perfection with a red-hot Oreck iron.
You see, housekeeping, for Mama, isn’t so much a chore as a calling, and she does it better than anyone else I know.
If there’s any crack at all in my mama’s firm housekeeping foundation, it’s that she favors form over function. It’s not a big deal, really – it’s simply a result of her desire for everything to look pretty. She doesn’t like unsightly objects to disturb her decorative flow, and that is why she once placed a large hall tree in front of the air conditioner thermostat in my childhood home.
Now granted, the hall tree looked lovely, but there was absolutely no way to make a middle-of-the-night trip to the bathroom without slamming a substantial portion of my thigh against it. Once I limped back to my bedroom and gingerly crawled into bed, however, at least I could sleep with the assurance that Mama’s aesthetic sensibilities were preserved by keeping that unsightly thermostat out of sight. And besides, that deep purple thigh-welt was bound to fade with time.
When Mama and Daddy moved to another house about a year and a half ago, my sister and I made it our mission to give Mama more function, even if that meant sacrificing a bit of her beloved decorative form. I spent several weeks in my hometown before the big move, cleaning out closets, setting up for the mother of all garage sales, and trying to help Mama sort through over forty years of accumulated stuff.
“At the new house,” I would say, “you can streamline.”
“At the new house,” I would say, “you can focus more on function.”
But Mama just doesn’t have it in her. She would cover up the pipes on the back of a commode if Daddy would let her. Seriously. She’d go pick out some floral fabric, consult with a seamstress, and then pay somebody to make pipe cozies. She absolutely would.
And trying to convince her that it’s perfectly fine for a thermostat to be visible is like trying to teach a cat to bark. It goes against the natural order of the universe.
At least now, in the new house, the massive book cabinet that’s covering the thermostat is out of the line of traffic. You don’t have to worry about taking out a chunk of your shin while trying to walk around it, but you do have to find a flashlight and then shine it behind the bookcase in order to read the thermostat settings. This process drives Daddy to complete distraction but leaves Mama sighing with contentment, as does the sage green velour throw that’s artfully draped across an inoperable wall heater in their den.
This past weekend D. was helping me make up the bed at Mama and Daddy’s house, something he hasn’t done very often because the intricacy of Mama’s bed-making system can be a little intimidating. All things considered, he was doing pretty well; after almost ten years of marriage to me, he understands that the process is far more elaborate than pulling a bedspread over some pillows. He realizes that on my mama’s side of the family, making up the bed means that it’s time to put on your protective goggles and get ready to do some hard labor. It’s not for the faint of heart.
As we were working on pulling up layer-o-cover #4, Mama swooped into the room and picked up the pillows we’d slept on the night before. I didn’t think a thing of it because I know the routine, but D. paused for just a second and said, “Hey. Your mama just took all the pillows. What’s she doing with them?â€
“Putting them in the closet,†I said.
“Putting them in the closet? Why?†he asked.
“Because she doesn’t think they’re pretty enough to be on the bed.â€
D. could not quit laughing. Even when he was getting into the shower several minutes later, I could hear him chuckling across the hall.
Several years ago my friend Daphne’s husband coined the phrase Stunt PillowsTM to refer to the purely decorative pillows, the ones that are often the very essence of form over function. They look great, for sure – but don’t you even think about using them for something as mundane as sleeping. That would never, ever do.
With that in mind, please examine the following three pictures:
Based on the photographic evidence, I feel it is appropriate – and dare I say, necessary – to christen my mama’s house as The Stunt Pillow PalaceTM of America.
If you’d like to take a tour, I can probably arrange it. I know she’d be delighted to show you how she concealed an unused electrical outlet in her kitchen by hanging a picture in front of it.
But don’t you even think about stretching out on one of her beds.
Not unless you make a trip to the Functional Pillow Closet first.
This post was originally published on January 30, 2007.
Your mama sounds a lot like my mother in law! She even says that ironing is therapeutic for her.
I just love the look of the Stunt Pillows, but I’m such a function over form girl that I can’t bring myself to go for it!
I would love to take a tour of your mama’s home!
We actually use our stunt pillows for sleeping on. I like pretty pillows but just don’t have the energy to change them out every night. Mine aren’t frilly or anything so they are quite comfortable. Oh well.
Dear Lord, there are more than just one?
My mother…bless her heart…does the very same thing.
Growing up, we had a couch full of pillows. Every. single. time. we got up from the couch, before we were allowed to leave the ‘couch area’ we had to turn around, plump up the pillows, place them just so, and then…and only then could we move away.
This happened even if we had to just run to the bathroom and would be right back.
Please, please, please, more Momma and Marhta stories!
OH FINALLY! Someone that would understand what I have been trying to convince my husband of for YEARS.
I have pillows only for show. No one is allowed to lay on them, and it drives him INSANE.
I would like to hire your mama to help me in my house. I have lots of things I’d like covered.
Laughing!! I’m clearly in the function phase of my life, but I don’t think I’ll ever get to the Stunt Pillows phase.
Heh.
I, too, have “stunt” pillows on the bed. . .but also place the functional ones we use for sleeping right behind them! No need to hide them in a closet. . . the stunt pillows and bedspread take care of that!
I like a clean, orderly house, too. But after raising four children, that is next to impossible. So I just choose a few rooms that have to stay orderly ALL the time. . . the dining room and living room. But we hardly use them so why do we need those rooms anyway? *sigh*
Oh, I missed this archived post the first time, but let me tell you….me and your mama would get along swimmingly! LOL
RHoda
My mom? She’s the exact. same. way.
Or I mean the exact! same! way!
Oh my! If I didn’t know better, I would think we were related! Your Mama and my Grandma may have been separated at birth. Before my Grandma recently moved, she wanted us to come straighten the insulation in the attic before anyone came to look at the house. Seriously. She’s still not convinced that the house may have sold faster if we had done it as she asked, but this was the one area where we could not give in.
We still don’t sit or lay on a made bed and I will admit…I still kinda freak out when I see someone do that, but I have yet to convince my husband that this is the unpardonable sin.
I think I am your mama’s daughter (which, I guess would make me your long-lost sister!). :-)
Love the “Stunt Pillow”; I have a pillow “schematic” … my poor husband tries to follow it but never gets it quite right. And, I have an oil painting on the kitchen counter, propped up on one wall to hide the electrical outlet!
Now, how can we hide that ugly bathroom plumbing? :-)
Thanks for the walk down memory lane. Sounds just like my mother. She’s a perfectionist and I love her for it. It’s always a little intimidating to stay at her house, esp. when making the bed. Now I can use the “stunt pillow’ line. Thanks again for the wonderful story.
Priceless…just priceless. I’m somewhere between function and pretty. I’m too lazy to go all pretty :) Its a LOT of work!
It must generational. My mom does the very same thing. Cracks me plumb up. Stunt pillows. Definitely using that phrase!
I am not ashamed to admit that my beds look EXACTLY like that. However, like the commenter above, I do hide my functional pillows behind the stunt pillows. Forget about making the bed, it’s also a chore to get INTO bed at night. All the pillows must be removed and neatly stacked. Bed decoration is an art, an art, I tell you!
So I was laughing right along with you until I got to the part about the picture covering an unused outlet in the kitchen… I hung our daughter’s birth announcement over the phone jack in the kitchen at our old house. We haven’t had a house phone in 7 years, but the stinkin’ jack was in the middle of the wall – the ONLY wall that didn’t have cupboards – all by its lonesome… I HAD to do something! :-/
This is my Nana to a tee. And heaven forbid anyone ever consider going and laying on the bed once it is done. Beds are for sleeping. You should never take a nap on one, lay around with the girls and chit-chat, or heaven forbid sit on it while you are dressing!!
Great story!
Did they model Monica from Friends on her! Seriously it must be an American thing because I have a good friend here in England who is from the States and she does that. Everytime I stay over I poke fun at her, but clearly she isn’t on her own.
Uhhhhh…I not only DON’T have stunt pillows, I haven’t made my bed in 8 days.
If your mamma walked in my house she would take in one deep breath and then collapse.
And it would be sad.
Because there would have been sooooo much she could have helped me with.
I love my stunt pillows! And no one can lay on them! Not ever! Thats just not right…
And your mama has very pretty pillows!
The part about how she’d cover the pipes with floral fabric had me cracking up. So cute!
That is so funny! Love those quirks. You had me rolling. :)
This is just lovely! That woman has some mean hospitality skilz…even if we can’t use the perty pillas. I appreciate that.
Well, some of us blog, some of us scrapbook, and your Mom goes for decorating and cleaning perfection.Looks like she’s doing a great job!
Stunt pillows…heh..heh.
L-0-V-E-D this post!
And to Melissa Lee….girl, I’m right there with ya!
Love this! It so reminds me of my mother and her southern ways. She grew up in Arkansas and despite several decades of living in the southwest maintains much of her southern-ness.
Stunt pillows, Bless her sweet heart! My mom would be thrilled to purchase a few of those pipe covers once production starts.
My momma is the same way with all her bedrooms…its kind of funny. When she comes to my house she re makes the beds…no joke.
Ok…this is so “for real” for me. I grew up with this same lifestyle. As a matter of fact, when I met my husband’s family and they were all sitting around chatting while sitting on her bed……I couldn’t believe it!
My MIL-to be, said…..”have a seat, as she patted her handmade quilt”….Uhhhh, I said, Really?
They still laugh at me about it….My mama would say….Ooooh don’t sit on your bed….it pops the threads in your bedspread! Of course, never touch the poser pillows!
THIS IS NO LIE!!!!
So I grew up a tainted child…..the bed must look like a magazine/catalog or else—-we’re all going to be labeled as white-trash!
I keep waiting for the day when my house will be filled with stunt objects of all varieties instead of hot wheels cars. I should face reality though, I’ll never live up to the stunt pillow castle that you mom has!
oh…. can I borrow your mama for about a week???? windows, baseboards, but – she may not like the fur my “kids” (cats) leave all over everything – including the UNMADE bed. :)
Sorry, I have no stunt pillows, and when I wash the sheets, etc. – I just throw them back on the bed but don’t make it pretty. The cats don’t care and it’s just me & them! Things are suitable for company (except for folks like your mama) in all the other rooms.
You’ve inspired me…I don’t have the captivating writing style you do, but I know EXACTLY what you are talking about! I posted about stunt bedspreads this morning. Love your blog!
Ah yes!! It’s a Southern female thing, I think. My dear Aunt Lois also made sure the bedspread was folded up and placed in the closet at night. It matched the “Stunt Pillows” and could not be used while sleeping. I love the name “Stunt Pillows”. I shall forever adopt the name. I’m afraid my “Stunt Pillows” are a bit the worse for wear — they get tossed around a bit and actually used once in a while. Never mind…I shall never be remembered for my housecleaning skills. I make sure it will pass the health inspection — but I prefer the “lived in” look!!!
I love your mama!!!!!