Yesterday, I washed the
windowsills in our sun room. It's Pure Luck's office these days, has been
for some time, but when I moved into this house eleven years ago with three
much younger children, the sun room was the room where we lived, perched to eat
pizza, watched Star Trek or Sesame Street, just hung out together.
When I bought the
house, it wore a coat of crap-brown paint, with glaring salmon trim. Why would
you paint a sun room brown? The painters hired to refresh the whole house found
my color choices eccentric, too, though not as gaudy. I told them I wanted a pale,
pale yellow, just this side of white, the same shade as very cold butter. They
smirked, but I found that color.
I struggled to find
the right coverings for those big windows, tried various shades and curtains
that would give me light during the day but grant some privacy in the evening,
that we might avoid being the entertainment for the neighborhood.
Later, we moved our
base of operations to the much-larger actual living room. With the addition of a grown man, the
enlargement of the children and the arrival of two large dogs, we did not fit
in the sun room anymore.
Really, you could
call it the dark room now, because Pure Luck asked for room-darkening curtains,
the better to see his computer screen. I found black linen curtains on sale at
Pottery Barn, and we hung them together.
Everything in this
house shows the wear of eleven years of family living. Those crank-out casement
windows probably ought to have been replaced in 1998. It's the room with the
thermostat and yet the least well-insulated. But priorities determined it receive
only a refinished floor and a fresh coat of paint, every muntin and mullion
transformed from ugly to peaceful and pale buttery goodness.
down the heavy, old-fashioned storm windows and put in the screens. I washed
the sills and the many narrow strips of wood dividing the panes of glass. After
eleven years, the paint curls and peels. The windows must be re-glazed, I suppose.
But for a moment, I would rather think of a Little Princess and Puppy Molly
taking right out of her lap what will always be known as a Molly Burger.
It felt good to stand in the breeze of