It's Starting to Look a Bit Like the Sixties

Last night I started decorating for my Sixties birthday party this coming Friday night and I have to admit I've missed the beaded, feathered, funky look of the rooms we lived in back in the day.

My spaces always looked like a cross between an opium den and a bordello, and I still love it. I have a floor lamp, for example, that's from the 1920s. I bought it from an antique store back in 1984 after falling in love with the red satin fringed shade. It's a little tatty these days, but when I put it up last night I realized that it still adds a definite ambiance to whatever room it's in.

Because I've moved on into the second book of my trilogy, which takes place in the Seventies, I'm letting the party serve as my official farewell to the Sixties. This saddens me. I had a better time reliving them and writing about them than I had surviving them. Still, I've made peace with a lot of the unresolved issues I've been carrying around all these years.

I wouldn't count on a Seventies party any time soon, though. The decade really weren't all that much fun in my little world.