Wow did we ever get a storm yesterday evening. Lightning, thunder, rain. It was beautiful. It reminded me of being out at the cottage where storms are five times louder. I only wish it could have happened later at night. A perfect summer vacation would include a midnight storm I could stay up and watch, and rain beating against the window first thing in the morning when I would normally be getting up.
Today my mom and I attacked the rest of my living room wall. When I moved in (two years ago now, did I mention I just celebrated my two year anniversary with my house?) my living room walls were covered in this fibre wall stuff, which I like to compare to dryer lint stuck on with decoupage glue. It was grey with white flecks (like the kind of lint you get when you wash and dry a pair of pants you left a Kleenex in). To remove the stuff you "simply" wet it and scrape it off (it's not that easy). Last night when I was talking to my mom she asked me how the wall project was coming.
"Well there's a patch on the left side of the TV that I've done, and a bit on the right, so it kind of looks like a crack house in here."
Not wanting her daughter's home to be seen by anyone looking like a crack house, my mom immediately offered to come over today to help me finish it. Thankfully, she was happy to work for a grilled cheese sandwich and Fresca.
Once all the stuff was scraped off we had to wash the walls to remove the remaining fluff and glue residue. My mom, while on a break, laughed while watching me rub down the walls with a yellow cloth using a circular motion.
"Wax on, wax off," she said. Although I've never seen The Karate Kid, I am familiar with the reference, and truthfully, there was something very Zen feeling about the task. Is it weird to say that I felt like I was doing something nice for my house? There's just something satisfying, in a loving kind of way, about restoring something to its original beauty. Like cleaning the make up off of a hooker. Okay, I think I'm taking this crack house metaphor too far now.
When I got home tonight I was singing a song I'd heard on the way home. It echos in here now that the walls aren't padded in fluff, so my voice seemed to fill the whole house. My voice filled the whole house. I knew when I bought this house that I liked it because it was a good fit, just the right size. I fell in love with my house all over again today. I think I want to just stay up all night with it and think about how happy I am to have it in my life right now.
1 comment:
I've fallen in love with my house over the last few weeks, partially because I've spent such little time there. Alex and I are going to try and get the last guest room painted and it's such a feeling of accomplishment. Every wall in our house was painted stark white when we moved in and it's been such a treat to see it become warm and cozy as we've added paint and our own touches.
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