You know you’ve made it when you can afford custom blinds.
It took me 25 years of climbing the government union ladder (it’s not that high) but I’m finally there. I’m at a point where someone can come to my home to measure my windows, offer me a multitude of colours and patterns, and tell me, “You’re worth it.”
Maybe she didn’t say the last part. But to visit us three times, I think she saw something special in us. So special that she sold us the best blinds money can buy.
Ten years ago, I would have scoffed at the cost. Back in the day, I would rig non-custom blinds on our bedroom windows to make them work. Or we just didn't have any. For most of our married life, we’d be careful about how much clothing we had or didn’t have on when entering the kitchen at night.
We had decades-old Venetian blinds on our four front windows that no longer had handles to open and close. You had to reach for the little knob to manually turn each one. Our cat would bend them to look out the window and we would bend them back.
We considered replacing them, but with what? I wasn’t about to rig some non-customs on our front windows. Plus we were “low income” back then. There were days, after looking at our bank account, when we would wonder what we were going to eat for the rest of the month.
Okay, it was never quite that bad. We were never impoverished. But I thought about money almost every day (now, only every few days).
I’m not saying we’re wealthy by any means. We just make more than we once did. We’re nearing the median household income in Canada according to the CRA. It’s a lot easier, though, when you're at the lower end of "median" than the higher end of the poverty line.
It means we can buy custom blinds. I won’t tell you how much they cost because it's too personal. Let’s just say they’re motorized and are scheduled to rise and descend with the sun. They also cost more than my first car which, as you might guess, wasn't much.
Strangely, they give me about as much satisfaction. As a 16-year-old, I would have laughed at what I've become. But as you near middle age (50, right?), you begin to appreciate new, unremarkable things.
You appreciate your lawn and your garden. You get into birdwatching. You pick berries every chance you get until your freezers can hold no more.
You find pleasure in watching your blinds automatically open and close on schedule, or seeing visitors get spooked by their sudden movement. I’m truly mesmerized by the wonders of home improvement.
Now if only I could get as excited about painting.
