It is Spring

I must admit, November knocked me for a loop. As my world and my perspective shifted it didn’t feel right to talk about paint and fabric. I pulled in. I note how often things get larger and smaller at the same time. As I grasped my lapels a little tighter and ducked my head into the wind, I did what I often do in times of worry. I invited friends to the house.

The downstairs and my bedroom and the two younger boys’ rooms feel settled. Nothing is ever finished as anyone who would stop here would know. But three years in I finally bought the headboard that I wanted and, in nothing less than design gods smiling, found a pair to the vintage bedside light for which I’d been searching for ages.

The middle’s room hasn’t changed much since we moved, though he is bigger and so his desk is bigger. (He knows himself in all things and refuses most of my overtures to “improve” his space.) The youngest, whose ankles showed as he put on khaki pants that fit two weeks ago, finally – finally – has a double bed. We twin no more.

So all the space that must work, does work. But the rooms that function less well need attention. Even though my oldest is only here a few months each year, having his room off of the dining room has never been ideal and not only because he is the messiest and sleeps the latest, but because for all creatures privacy is as important as society.

The bathrooms function, but elements of both still make me flinch a little as I snap on the light. And the unfinished attic, which may be the most charming space in the house, has gone unused for the last one hundred years. All that is about to change. Probably not quickly and certainly not easily. (What project ever is?) But in the end I hope to leave this space a little better than I found it.

I am less and less often on Facebook (so noisy) but am obsessed with Instagram. You can find pictures of this on-going project (and other nonsense) @patricia_mrsblandings

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedinmailFacebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestlinkedinmail      rssrss

13 thoughts on “It is Spring

  1. I’m so delighted that you stopped by for a quick visit- I’ve really missed you, and since November, I miss your wise, insightful words more than ever. I’ve also concentrated on making home into a place where dreams, love, and decency never are allowed to die..
    That’s the only thing I have control over.
    I will happily follow you on Instagram!

  2. November changed my feelings about people and my country for a time. I’m also regrouping, and it was so nice to see your post in my mailbox. It was also comforting to know you felt the same way. We will get through this. We are lucky to have roots and rocks to fall back on, and now, more than ever, we must stand for those who don’t. Take care.

  3. What a lovely surprise to find your post delivered this morning to my inbox. Been a long time.
    I’ve missed your wonderful writing.

    I am both embarrassed and fearful with daily politics and wonder just what it’s going to take to rattle the polite reserve of Democrats. Hopefully, they know something we don’t.

  4. It was an election, not Armageddon, for heaven’s sake! Over the centuries, we’ve had a small handful of great Presidents, many “okay” Presidents, some mediocre Presidents and a few truly awful Presidents, yet the nation has managed to survive. It will yet again.

    Your boys are really growing up SO quickly as are my grandsons. I do NOT like it at all! Ha!

    Good luck with your attic project. Many years ago, my late FIL lived in a house in Long Beach CA with three younger sisters. All they did was squabble and emote. He hated it, so he finished the attic to make himself a bedroom away from it all! It was his salvation from those sisters (whom he adored when they were all adults), but a teenage boy needs his space. My eldest grandson’s “space” is a room built in the garage. He calls it his office (he does not sleep there but does have a hammock for contemplation). He does his homework there, studies for the SAT’s and works on his Science Fair projects there. It really is an “office” for him.

  5. I am not really a commenter much, but wanted to say “glad to see your blog post” again. I have always liked your style and think you must be an amazing, interesting person. Looking forward to hearing and seeing more from you!

  6. November may well have become the cruelest month of all. I disagree with SRB. It was a form of an Armageddon. Years of veiled hatred have come undone and have taken over our government. I wept and continue to get teary eyed that at almost 68, I may never see our country get over this mess.

    What to do? I’ve gone to the kitchen. I know you have ambivalence about cooking, but here’s a book for you: samin nosrat’s “Salt Fat Acid Heat”. It’s storied in the best sense of the word. The writing is luminous, often hilarious, but filled with passion. Her kitchen is a rental. Most modest. Powerful in its purpose and simplicity. I want to crawl right in and chop and dice and laugh and dance. I’ll have to do that here in the middle of a deeply divided country.

    1. Storied in the best sense of the word is an indisputable recommendation in my book. I’ll check it out. Laughing and dancing (and writing and resisting) is the only way through.

  7. Wonderful to see a post from you, I felt like I had lost touch with a friend and, I admit, worried about you. Our projects are not always uplifting–mine run a predictable arc from initial enthusiasm to whose-stupid-idea-was-this to deep satisfaction when they finally wrap up. But sustaining and improving the quality of daily life: that never gets old for me, and I think that is true for lots of us. So glad to hear a bit about what you are up to, and sending you lots of good wishes!

    1. Thank you! I’m sure there will be at least one phase of “whose stupid idea was this?” even though there will only be one possible answer. Stay tuned.

  8. Oh Mrs. Blandings, so very happy to see a post! Like you, I found November to be wrenching, and the continuing madness a bit scary. Like you and others here, I’ve turned inward to my family and home for joy and sustenance. I’ll look forward to hearing from you again.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *