Well, I have pictures of it all, but they’re on my phone and I can’t figure out how to get them off of it and on to the computer. Maybe if I could get a more literate person (say, the 3 year old down the street) to help, I’ll have them to show to you. But, he’s busy checking the stock market (or something).
Anyway, last time I was there- a couple of weeks ago (I think), I got a bunch of painting done. The porches still aren’t finished, but there’s no rush on that other than the simple desire to see them done. I had a conversation with the builder about them that went something like this:
(He was working on them, getting the joists up…he’s a very careful and meticulous fellow, thus slow, but that’s ok as long as they’re done before I want to move in.)
Me: “So…(excitedly bouncing on my heels) you’re going to be finished with them this weekend, right? So I can have my porches, right? Right?”
Vince the Assistant Builder: “Why Yes, of course! And we’ll build you a porch swing, too.!”
Me: “OH YAY! I have some rope in the truck, can you make me a hammock as well?”
David the Builder: (giving me the hairy eyeball) “I’ll be finished with the porches if you’ll be finished with the painting.”
Well, the porches didn’t get finished and neither did the painting, but a bunch of the painting is done and I can see the colors and all that. Lots of blues- pretty much all the same hue but in different shades. What’s left are the closets and the 2 largest rooms. I’m waiting until I have help to do them, mainly because I don’t want to do them myself even though I am totally capable of doing them. It just seems like it would be more fun with a couple of other people, a radio, and some box wine.
As I was painting my bedroom, the paint (as it does) went on much lighter and darkened up as it dried. The dry color is a perfectly acceptable blue and I’m going to live with a bit to make sure I am satisfied with it, but the color it was when it was going on was this magical sort of very pale periwinkle that probably has nothing to match it ever in a textile. Like, I loved the color.LOVED IT, but would never ever be able to find a bedspread or a quilt or anything to match or coordinate, so I’d have to have pure white and that’s a complete disaster because for some reason white and I don’t mix. If I wear white, or have a white towel, or white upholstery, I will bleed spontaneously from the backs of my knees or something and ruin it. Except that I know a TRICK, taught to me by Dad who said vets use it on dogs with white fur because people who own small white dogs tend to be upset by blood stains. Hydrogen peroxide will get out a blood stain. It will! But I don’t want to have to keep a 55 gallon drum of the stuff in the back yard because the place is close enough to Ft Benning to get the occasional drone fly-over and I don’t want to be on A List. Also, bleach is bad for septic systems. So I am going to fantasize about that beautiful pale periwinkle and consider repainting my bedroom.
Here’s another thing that has occurred to me: If I want to repaint the bedroom I can and NO ONE CAN SAY A THING ABOUT IT. If I want to repaint my bedroom every day for a month I can, because it’s MY BEDROOM. I was busy getting all excited about the studio- the one that’s on the northeast corner of the house and has eleventy-seven windows. Well, ok it has 7 windows, but they’re big. I am so stinkin’ excited to have a studio for my sewing and stuff that is all full of natural light and I was thinking about that: A great big room that’s ALL MINE and exactly what I’ve always wanted in a studio! Including a huge window seat and wide sills where I can put African violets and orchids! Then it occurred to me: The entire house is mine. That was weird. Not consulting with anyone beyond what’s within the bounds of the Nebulous Building Code…making those cosmetic decisions all on my own. Now, it sucks the way that has come about, I’d much rather be doing this with Himself, but that ain’t life anymore. So I’m making gravy with the stuff I have instead of thinking of the stuff I don’t have.
Himself’s remains are in a box on the mantle right now. I have a spot picked out for them, outside the east window of my studio. They will get planted there, and a big pink Japanese magnolia on top of them. He always wanted a magnolia garden, and I think it’s suiting and appropriate to plant one there. He’d like that. He’d also like that every time I look out that window I’ll think of him and smile at the tree.