My second day at the house in the roses

Fall in the great Pacific Northwest speaks to my heart in muted colors and bright orange leaves.  Right around three in the afternoon, the atmosphere of the landscape would suddenly change.  Light acquires a low undertone and the world turns quieter.  You know then, that the day is pretty much over.  From my windows on the upper floors of the house I can clearly see the Owyhee mountains in the distance changing into their jewel tones by five, and they would dress up themselves in purples and pinks rather fast, and farther down the horizon, the sky turns magenta.  I watch the world spin between sunrise and sunset and know myself a fortunate soul for having all this free time on my hands to enjoy my precious moments.   I am too insignificant in this big, wide world, and yet not insignificant enough to make every moment holy.

On Thursday, November 9, I was eager to get back home to the house in the roses, but I figured that the painters would want some space to work, and thus I waited till around 11:00 before I headed off home.  At the house, they had advanced considerably, just as they’d promised.  A lot was cleared off by then around the family room and kitchen area, and the first dark accent wall had already been done.   Then the second one in the living room, and how amazed, and how mesmerized I felt by the swiftness and dexterity of these professionals… their perfect movements, the strokes, the liveliness of hands, arms, body, the way they handled the long rollers and broches and how Shorty was able to perfectly accomplish that wall in less than 15 minutes, all the while talking to me… how smoothly and perfectly went the paint into those white walls, how he loaded that roller covered with paint and rolled it against the wall leaving no marks no lines…

The cabinets hadn’t been painted yet, but the gray primer was a wonderful indication of what was to come; and I loved what I saw, and then I noticed that corner upper cabinet with its doors removed in preparation for painting and my brain started working, ideas popping up in my head, and I suddenly asked the dumbfounded painters to leave those cabinets without doors.  To fill in holes with wood filler, sand until smooth, and paint, but to leave the doors.  You see, I had plans… plans for that perfect corner and for a perfect coffee nook under some perfect open shelves with a lovely decorative treatment… Thus, I set off to work on my plans…    

Just went I was leaving, came Mike… another professional of his trade.  I signed the papers, and let him work on the floors in our master room…

All the doors were lining up in the garage, drying...

What a mess!

When I came back a few hours later Mike was gone, and the new hardwood floors installed.  Perfect and beautiful, and I loved it, just loved it!  The smoothness and coolness of the wood under my bare feet, the dramatic and sophisticated dark shade and the foundation for a room filled with light-colored pillows, bedding and area rugs.  Just loved it all!

The kitchen island had also been painted in that same lovely color I'd chose for the accent walls.  So much had been done in just those few hours!  I was thrilled, and ready to put my plans into action…  

While the painters painted, I cut fabric and covered up cabinets… cut, glued, and dreamed on… dreamed with fabulous upper cabinets, with no doors, used as display shelves filled with white pottery… that’s exactly what I wanted. 

I remained in the house with the painters until the sky became a watercolor and evening came down on us like magic, and with it also came the Fisherman, who had drove my truck home on a three-day journey from the little white cottage to the house in the roses... 

...we embraced and embraced again and again, and I gave him a tour of the entire house, tired as we were, and happy and ready to resume our life here.