Quarantine Diary #97 Le Bistro de Garage..

People don’t need to care about “decorating and home design.” As long as one can live safely in their abode while getting done the things they need and want to get done, that’s civilization.

But many people desire to make their domiciles more than a safe place to eat, sleep, and couch potato-ize. In fact, pretty much the engine of Western Imperialism is linked to what homes look like. If no one cared about massive overweening treasure-packed mansions, who would have invented slavery, exploitation, graft, and corruption? What would Jane Austen have written about? How else could Jay Gatsby have tried and failed to win Daisy’s heart? (Talk to her about books, art, and how her day went? Respect her autonomy? Wait for her to figure out her husband is a cheat? These strategies have been known to work.)

Home decorating and interior design are generally about two motivations.
1. One motivation is to amass, curate, intimidate, and show off. You’ve occasionally been in such homes. You know what I mean.

2. The other motivation is more curious. Why do we care so much about this kind of chair and not that? Why do we hang prisms in a window and build lawn furniture from pallets? Why do we paint the kids’ room with Dalmatian spots or fairies flying across their ceiling?

We do this because we like to invite ourselves and others into our lives.

Whether we know what we are doing or not, most of us tend to create spaces that welcome the dear doofus we are now and the fine person we are waiting to become. We are inviting the people we want our kids to become. We are making a place for the friends we have and the ones we would like to have. We are welcoming the cats and dogs who will make us laugh and feel loved. (One decorates for pets by having upchuck-tolerant furniture and not having poisonous plants.)

Home design is about making the space to which we invite ourselves and others. Which means, of course, It's can be humorous to look around at where we live right now and wonder just who it was we hoped would turn up….

Which leads directly into … Le Bistro … the space Len and I cobbled together this spring on the concrete apron of our garage.

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Our yard is luxuriously small. Mowing takes 20 minutes. One could turn the whole thing into flower and vegetable beds, and it would be a “small garden.”

The one luxury we didn’t have here was an inviting kind of outdoor place. Midwesterners know that January is long and if you are going to get through it, you need to have enough July evenings stored in your soul. Plus, the pandemic arrived, and it isn’t like we can travel far away to restore our spirits.

The week before the pandemic our guerilla arborist friend Chet trimmed huge branches from the trees behind our property. Suddenly we had a sunny backyard and a LOT of wood debris.

One thing led to another. We cleared branches and sticks for days. We bought a fire pit in which to burn sticks, since the town yard waste recycling depot was closed for Covid.

We already had a patio set and umbrella passed along to us by folks moving on to other styles. Free and uncomplicated is one of my favorite decorating styles.

I decided to paint the concrete. We already had a gallon of white. I bought two quarts of black and it “only” took two astoundingly sweaty afternoons to get everything prepped, marked out, painted, and painted. I considered buying outdoor rugs except this area is the path from car to back door, we walk here constantly. I figured sooner or later I would trip on a rug. Paint was the nuttiest, least expensive, and safest idea. Then there were classy and subdued stencil ideas on the internet. As you can see, I didn‘t go for classy and subdued.

Painted the black and white bistro floor. Set the table and umbrella in the middle. Bought one red geranium and Mary brought me another one.

Len attached eye hooks to the garage and house to which he attached vinyl covered steel cable which is the wire one hangs pictures from. He attached to those cables the strings of Edison lights he bought last year on sale. Inside the garage he plugged them into a ‘wireless remote-control electrical outlet switch’ – so that we can turn the lights on or off from the kitchen.

For about 20 hours and a hundred dollars we have a Covid-free Parisian bistro (I’ve never been to Paris, don’t tell me…). I like sitting there by myself, feet up, filthy from yard work, drinking coffee. I like dining ‘al fresco’ with Len, turning supper into a date. I like sharing it with friends, wine, snacks, and good conversation about important and unimportant things.

The Covid quarantine constrained so much of our lives. It’s nice to have a place that is an invitation to sit down and relax.