To make up for my recent light blogging, I have posted three entries today. Scroll down to see them all.

It has been a while since I have written about “Trading Spaces.” This could be because it was in repeats over the summer, or because of my conviction that the show jumped the shark with the advent of Kia and the expansion of its franchise into “Trading Spaces: Family.” But I saw two new episodes on Saturday that have inspired new commentary.

There is a new designer named Rick Rifle. I was prepared to love Rick, one, because he’s pretty cute, and two, because he was so well prepared to do his job. In fact, early on, I did declare to Rick, through the television, that I was madly in love with him, much to my boyfriend’s consternation.

Then I saw what he did.

On his premiere episode, Rick created what is easily the worst room to ever appear on the program (and yes, I’m counting Kia’s monstrosities and even Hildi’s “hay wall” and “flower wall” in this estimation). Bright turquoise walls . . . a faux-finished table in the most hideous of greens, with random squares of gold leafing to complete the gaudy effect . . . orange curtains that would look tacky even in a bordello . . . striped, multi-colored upholstery that would be more suitable for a clown suit than a bench. The homeowner was horrified and furious when she saw what had been done to her house, and I died a little inside, too.

On his second episode, Rick conjured the spirit of Africa and built a tent in someone’s family room. Even people in Africa don’t live in tents, but now some poor suburban American family is going to have to live with that dust trap next to their kitchen.

In Rick, “Trading Spaces” has accomplished what I would not have imagined possible: they have combined the worst aspects of each of their existing designers into one adorable package.