Details
Details, details, details. While on vacation in April, I had two different experiences with details. One was positive – well, both were positive, but one was Yes! and one was No! I’d been thinking about an article on the subject of details for a while, and these two different interactions pushed me to finally get my thoughts in order.
OneLook: Informal meaning, the small parts that can escape casual notice. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it both as a noun and a verb. As a noun, it is the “extended treatment of or attention to particular items.” As a verb, it is “to report minutely and distinctly: to report with close attention to small elements; to clean and refurbish (a vehicle) very thoroughly and meticulously.”
For the homemaker, this is the constant awareness of all the little things—dirt, tweaking of schedules and routine, decorating, and comforts. It’s being the one who notices the small parts, who doesn’t let them escape, who takes note of them formally. This is noticing when a frame isn’t straight, noticing that a space would be better with a trashcan or table or outlet, and that a chore needs five more minutes in the routine to really be done right. Being a homemaker means noticing all the tiny particular items. Being a homemaker means paying close attention to small elements, thoroughly and meticulously. It’s understanding that utility doesn’t trump beauty. It’s seeing what needs doing and what could be better for our people at this stage of life. It is all the tiny things that make home home. Details are an important aspect of our work. No, we don’t want to turn our awareness into tyranny. No one wants a nagging nitpicker managing their home. But on the other hand, without noticing the details, our homes will be dirty places that always rub us just the wrong way. Our homes will be annoying. I doubt any of us has the goal of creating places of constant vexation.
Traditionally, this is an ability that is stronger in women than men. It’s hard to nurture well if you don’t notice details. Women tend to want things to function and be pretty while doing so. This requires an eye for detail. We tend to want a cord here, but don’t want it to be noticeable, so we hide it or paint it. This is something that complements men’s willingness and desire to fix things. We also notice details about people. This is why women tend to be relationally more integrated. This is a strength, ladies, if we use it in the right way. This is a gift that we can use to serve our people, homes, churches, and communities as long as we are temperate with it.
Let’s start with my more negative experience. We were on the road for 17 days and stayed in 8 different locations. By far, the best-appointed place was the tiny (600 sq. ft.), 100+ year old home on Redondo Beach. The floors squeaked and everything! It was easy to modify for our specific needs and very cozy. But by the end of our travels, the lack of details that suited us in our sundry locations began to wear on me. This stop had no trash can in the bathroom. That one had no shelves. This one had no easy-to-locate outlets. That one had nowhere to sit if one person got up earlier than the other. This space had no place to unpack. That one had no privacy. This one had a loud fridge. That one had a hard-to-get-to coffee maker. This one’s sheets didn’t fit the bed. That one’s shower was too tiny. On and on with little grating details. Details that I could overlook because it was only for a short time, but by the end, stacked up into a mounting sense of frustration and a longing for home. The first night back in my bed, I slept solidly from 930-630. I wasn’t woken up by strange noises or loud neighbors. Everything had a place and was in its place.
Side Note: Every hotel should build a beta version of their standard room and hire homemakers to live in it for a couple of days. Then they should add shelves, drawers, trash cans, doors, lights, and outlets where the women suggest. Also, Airbnbers need to live in their cabins for three days and see what starts to annoy them. And I need to sleep in my guest room for a few nights and probably make some changes.
I have never been so thankful for MY trays, two bathrooms, closets, washer and dryer, kitchen, French press, and just my home in general because all the details are mine and ours and work for us.
The positive experience happened at the cabin we stayed at in Yosemite. We spent the majority of our time in the mountains and with the Giant Sequoias, but each day started and ended in our cabin. What I noticed more than the inside was the outside. The owners had worked on their property to make it engaging and whimsical. Everywhere I looked had big, eye-catching beds, flowers, chairs, shrubs, and art. There was something beautiful or interesting that caught the eye and drew me deeper into the next place. But when I stopped and just admired one place, I found a multitude of tiny details scattered about—a chair with a small metal wren on it, a tree filled with etched lanterns and suncatchers, another with bird feeders and wind chimes. Every place I looked, the owners had tucked art, knick-knacks, and bric-a-brac deeper in. I loved how it slowed me down. I loved how I could revisit a spot and find something I hadn’t noticed before. I loved the sheer eclectic silliness of it all. I wanted to run to my own thrift store and find some tiny things to start layering in my flower beds. I wanted to make some suncatchers and string them about. I wanted more wind chimes.
The layering of details brought me so much joy and inspiration!
Side Note: I do not want to fill my house with dust collectors that constantly need dusting. This is why I love them outside more than inside. Outside, little knick-knacks don’t have to be dusted. Outside, they’re whimsical. Inside, they make everyone afraid to move because they might break something. This is one of the things I want to do in my yard: thrift little fun things to tuck here and there.
How does one grow an eye for detail? Crafts were the first thing that came to mind. If we cross-stitch, knit, or crochet, quilt, or even mend or make our own clothes, we’re training ourselves to notice details. These hobbies make us focus on one thing and pay attention to how tight the stitches are and how uniform we can make our work. Inspections help teach children this, but we can inspect our work when we finish, too. We can clean the bathroom and then return later to see if we got the little things. We can practice by taking note of small annoyances and troubleshooting them. We can walk into a room and ask ourselves what isn’t quite right. Does this pillow need straightening? Does that duvet need to be pulled tight? Is this button loose? Is that clutter that needs a home? Does this drop-spot need a tray or a bowl? Is this glass clean? How do I get the water spots off it?
We can have fun with the details, too! Maybe a flowering plant in this corner will cheer it right up. Maybe a lamp is needed over here, not just because everyone sits there to read, but because it will warm the space, too. The sun shines in this window, maybe mirrors or crystals can hang here and pepper the whole room with rainbows. Maybe my view out this window would be better with a rabbit peeking out from behind this bush. Details aren’t just about dirt and annoyance. Details are about beauty and fun. And if that doesn’t sum up homemaking, I don’t know what does. Homemaking isn’t just about the dirt and doing, it’s also about beauty and fun!
The takeaway here is that the details matter and are an important part of our management of the home. They’re an important way that we build our family culture and make a home uniquely ours. They’re an aspect of the safety and delight of home. For our people, they’re often unnoticed, but for us, they’re our job. Noticing the details—whether that’s if the dishes are clean and so are the bathrooms, like actually clean, or if that’s noticing that everyone is inconvenienced by the location of a particular chair, or if it is noticing how the small frog you found and tucked in a pothos pot makes everyone smile—is something we need to be engaged in. Plus, it is difficult to maintain merry durability when you keep bumping into this or losing that or constantly have to look at the cords. And it is even harder when we don’t have little things nestled about us that make us happy. Details matter.
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