Oriental rugs. Here at my Budget Vogue desk, I glory in the patterns, the intricacies, the work of art at my feet. I unabashedly adore carpets from Iran, from Pakistan, from Turkey.

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And now is the time when people are parting with them like entertainment cabinets.

I have two large oriental carpets in my home, one I inherited from my mother, the other I found at an auction in Holland. I love them, often stare at them and ponder their stories. I remember running Matchbox cars around the lines of one, sitting on it as a child, loving the boundaries and brilliant oranges, reds and greens.

My mother once told me she opted for a rug rather than a diamond at her engagement. I am grateful.

But now I see them practically being given away. And, in fact, I am being given one by my dear friend, Kathy. Her parents lived in Hingham, Mass, and I remember stopping by their home as they sipped Sanka and made me laugh.

Bill and Teresa raised five children around this carpet, when I told Kathy I was looking for another oriental to adorn my little Cape’s living room she offered the one from her childhood home.

“No one wants it” she said, and I am deeply joyful to put it down, knowing its history, its colors, its warmth.

Oriental carpets now seem only to be spotted beneath rock bands, on stages or in recording studios. They invite the vibe of upscale, the vibe of class. For me, they invite beauty, art, history, and wonderful, wonderful quality. They only better with age, with foot traffic, with time.

They also hide a plethora of sins, of stains. I don’t know how many dogs and children have vomited on my carpets, had accidents, spilled juice. But the glory of an oriental is the colors and patterns absorb the fallout from children, from pets, from people. They are not, “Careful, careful” works of art; they are workhorses of floor coverings.

And I am a fan of the practical and durable; I am a fan of hiding mistakes in full view. I am a fan of oriental carpets and walking, running, playing, dancing on works of art.

Do share your stories of oriental rugs that have been a part of your Budget Vogue life. And if you’ve got a carpet to part with? Do tell. I’ll get my Matchbox cars ready.

Susan Dromey Heeter writes and teaches on the Seacoast. Contact her at dromeheet@comcast.net.