When I pull those 150-some glossy pages of picture-perfect rooms from my mailbox, I can’t wait to get inside the house, sit down with a cup of hot tea (or a Pepsi from the fridge), and slowly work my way from cover to cover, blissfully admiring the shots of rooms that must have perfectly mindful children and husbands occupying them, since certainly no one I know would actually have a mudroom with a tray of rain boots arranged so neatly. Even though I know the folks who would occupy such abodes probably don’t live so neatly each and every day, I can’t help but be sucked into the notions of the simple, casual, and rustic lifestyle that such images provoke.

That’s right – I’m talking about the Pottery Barn catalog, with all its farmhouse décor, vintage accessories, and “antique”  furniture.  I guess I can only speak for myself, but the photos of those pages seem to promise a simpler, more balanced, and perhaps for “rustic” life. (Yes, I know, they’ve got me hooked. I’m a PB customer.)

It’s funny, though, probably sad, too, that I’ve begun to associate feelings or attitudes with having the right pieces for our home. But you know what? A bench for our dining table won’t make our dining room feel more cozy – having regular meals there will. Probably no one in my family will care if their drinks are carried outside on a vintage tray – they’ll remember the nice evening air and the good conversation. And that amazing porch furniture I’ve been drooling over? Come this summer, what will matter is that I can read a book on the porch of our farmhouse within earshot of our livestock in the barn – and it won’t really matter what I’m sitting on.

I’m sure you’ve probably reached this conclusion long ago, but forgive me, sometimes I’m a little slow in reaching these for myself. I’ll always enjoy having nice things and incorporating our family heirlooms, industry antiques, and other farm items into our home, but it’s about time I remind myself that just because you might be able to decorate a home with a look that says simple, balanced, and rustic, doesn’t mean it’s authentic. Having books on side tables doesn’t mean anything unless you actually read them, displaying neat cake stands don’t count unless you actually bake cakes to serve on them, and a great set of porch or patio furniture doesn’t do a bit of good unless you actually spend summer evenings with family and friends. And sometimes I need a little reminder of that, especially while we’re decorating our new home.

So, while I can’t promise I won’t still be a little excited for the next Pottery Barn catalog that arrives, I know I’ll be doing more to lead a balanced and full life and worrying less about collecting things that only give that image, like the pages of a catalog.