You may congratulate us. After nearly 40 years of marriage, we’re finally getting ourselves bedroom furniture that matches. And the shopping experience didn’t ruin the marriage. The mister and I might have finally learned how to make the big decisions. (His style is research, research and more research. Mine is close my eyes, turn around twice and point.)

I could point anywhere in the furniture store and find myself looking at . . . barn-wood. We settled on the least barn-y thing we could find — I’m just not up for a headboard that reminds me of hay and manure — then I asked my adult daughter, “Do I blame Joanna Gaines for this year’s furniture?”

“Yep,” she said.

Nothing against the Gainses, mind you. In fact, while in Texas in recently, I made a point of directing my husband off the freeway in Waco, and heading for the famous silos. We saw shoppers gazing at pricey pillows and candles, or waiting in line outside the restaurants. We found husbands and children waiting out the shopping trip by tossing plastic balls on a mini baseball diamond.

I bought what was most important to me — lunch — from a food truck. Finger sandwiches. Summer berries.

Oh, and I picked up The Magnolia Story.

If you watch the Gaines’ show, you probably already know about the emergencies that sprung up on their wedding day (good preparation for a future home renovation career), or Chip’s childhood entrepreneur adventures. You probably already know how they met and what made Joanna choose the scruffy Chip over a guy named Hot John.

You probably already know how they bombed when a TV crew came to test-film them for a possible  show, and what rolled into their lives to turn on the TV magic.

Some people pop out eight kids, get a show, then fizzle out from fame. And some people love fixing up houses, get a show and stay so real, their hometown still likes them. I loved reading about two people who figured out what they’re good at, who turned small successes into big ones. I wouldn’t want their headaches — making payroll in lean times, project deadlines, being freaky busy all the time — but I wish them the best.

And what I most like about Joanna is not her pillows or candles or barn-wood, but her ear for that little voice inside that tells her, Full speed ahead on your dreams, and, later, Put the career aside. Spend time with your kids. You’ll see, I’ve got something great in mind for you. I’m a big fan of women who have kids, plus make a splash in the world, switching tracks in a way that works for the kids, for the world, for them. Oddly enough, these women always end up in the right place at the right time.

What’s your pick for post of the week?

  1. There is no such thing as neutrality, but there is such a thing as pretense of neutrality . . .
  2. We have a very short window in which to stand and reject this attempt . . .