I am flat on my back, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. The sun cascades through the westerly facing window. The blue of the walls tints the ceiling in the bright sunlight. It appears as though I am under an endless summer sky.
Three days ago I dismantled, moved and reassembled my Queen size bed. I hauled the mattress, box spring, head and foot boards and side rails across the house. I felt a smug sense of satisfaction when I locked the side rails into the foot and head boards. Yesterday, I hung the inside mount rattan blinds in my new bathroom. The frameless glass door to the shower has yet to be installed but I am enchanted with the room and find myself in there frequently.
There is an indelible print upon this home. The apple green chinoiserie toile wallpaper in the study leading to the robin's egg blue in the bedroom... the blue of the venetian glass chandelier picking up the color in the rug... the metallic silver design in the wallpaper echoed in the mercury glass sconces. I have picked and chosen from my grandmother's New Orleanian background and made my own home, humble though it is. Still a 1950s brick rambler, minutes from the Pentagon because this house was made for a DOD worker, undoubtedly. Yet, there is something here; there is something peeking forth. No St. Charles Avenue manse but... there are her red toile dishes, her French bisque, Aunt Dot's watercolors... there are subtle signs here of Gran's influence.
I only wish I could channel more.
2 comments:
As always, your words create a thousand beautiful images. I can't wait to see the finished room and I'm especially looking forward to sitting on that beautiful porch sippping a coctail or two!
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