Revisions & Tiny Places

So we remodeled my in-laws’ house, rather their bedroom,

which is as grand a place as a whole home.

It is the first sight upon opening eyes

& the last before sleeping.

 

It is so grand

(& even though I am FORBID to post any pictures before the big reveal

via IKEA & their publications)

you can trust.

 

And we were so pooped

that

my girl

conched-out

on our bike ride home.

 

I pulled-up, parked, & looked behind.

Her mouth open,

not kidding like sometimes when she

wants to be carried-in,

cutely with a small amount of deception.

She was OUT.

 

 

Redoing takes work,

even if you are just

hanging around, jumping on beds.

wpid-imag5607.jpg

 

Upon coming to, she said,

“I want my room looking more pretty, too”.

wpid-imag5621.jpg

Not jealous, just highly inspired,

“Let’s make it more pretty, yes?”

wpid-imag5616.jpg

wpid-imag5612.jpg

 

So I am looking for the hammer,

still, taking inventory

of every frame,

hanging plates on walls,

& getting ready to switch curtains,

hang out futons,

weed out the too small things

the hanging-up of clothes,

the spaghetti/netflix binging,

the polishing of silver,

“what the heck will i cook for dinner” & when will i return that year-old library book?

 

i’m home

in the thick of it–

doing the little things

the heavy things

with nails.

 

It feels like throwing flames

& scrubbing dishes

with five-day-old nails,

thinking only last night

did we sip some bubbly.

 

come in, glamour, come in clean,

come in swaths of curtains blowing in open-window breeze

come in recipes with potatoes

cream, dill, and shallots

come in brilliance,

inspiration, & the energy to set sparks to flint,

soup to table,

hearth to city,

 

beauty beauty

come in.

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