Illusions

This may meander a bit, but stick with me. In 1995 my husband and I were expecting our second child. One day as I was walking home from dropping our oldest at the sitter (I had a job where I telecommuted 4 days) and had an experience that frightened me enough that I told my husband it was time to move. So we commenced our house hunt. Divine providence led us to our second home in a neighborhood surrounded by alfalfa fields (ahhh - a little reminder of 'home'). It was a home that we were able to semi-customize as it was being built. I loved that little home because it was MY home. I picked out the color schemes and carpets and some of the designs. We did all the landscaping ourselves (yah, that was back when we were young and had that kind of energy, sigh). We grew in that 3B2B house to a family of 6. While it was manageable, we considered that it might be time to move in the not too distant future as our kids were growing. We bought a house on more than an acre in a quiet neighborhood. I will just say that we bought it for the acreage and had plans to build. No worries, the lady we bought it from wanted to rent it back until she was ready to move. Perfect since I didn't want to live there yet.

All right, back to 1995. Scott's parents lived a quarter mile around the corner from us and went through a similar phase, just sooner than we did. They ended up also having a house built in a master community. They were so excited about it and every new thing that happened we had to jump in the car and go check it out - if you've ever had a house built, you know how it is: you get so excited, the foundation is poured, then you wait weeks and it's framed and you get so excited, then you wait weeks for the next event (rollercoaster!) - but you're out there all the time watching the pot that won't boil. Yes, I'm meandering again... Anyway, Scott's mom picked out this dark wood flooring. Flashback to the 80s when everything was whitewashed and bright - I was still in that mode. I was a little concerned about what she picked, but it wasn't my house (no, I did not pick any 'dark' wood for my house). 

Fast forward to the 21st century. 2002 to be exact. We moved into the house on the acreage and nine days later Scott's mom passed away. Dec 2003 Scott's dad remarries. Early 2004 we 'traded' houses with them to ease the facilitation of their building a house on the adjacent property of our acreage. Early 2005 I inform Scott that I really don't want to move again, so we buy his parents' house. I am now living with the dark wood flooring that I would never have picked, but it's 2005 and dark wood is all the rage. Now, normally, I'm not one to hop on the bandwagon, so I classify the wood color as 'classic' and therefore always in style.

The house also came with beautiful mauve corian countertops and matching mauve carpets in the living rooms and bedrooms. Those were top priority to be replaced, so we hired some contractors and got it done. One of the contractors asked me, "So, how do you like your wood floor?" I smirked to myself and said, "I love it, but it isn't wood!" It's true, it isn't wood, but it looks and feels enough like wood to fool a contractor - it's a lovely illusion. So you are dying to know, what is it really? (drumroll, please.....) It's linoleum. And yes, I love it. It's super easy to clean and it's incredibly durable and it appears to be wood!

Illusions. Isn't that what we do as writers, type words on a page creating a scene in the reader's head - a grand illusion. Done right, the reader steps right into that illusion and becomes part of it, wanting to reach out and interact with the scene, be there, help right prevail and the protagonist succeed. As a reader, I love those books that I cannot pull myself out of the illusion, I've got to stay with it until the final words, The End. So my friends, continue your illusions - Write On!

**side note: If you haven't check out the movie, The Illusionist, I highly recommend it. It competes with Count of Monte Cristo for second on my list of favorites.