My niece and her husband were bringing Baby Harper to visit us in New York for the week. They were to arrive tonight. But my niece called on Monday with the news that she is down with Covid, so they can’t travel after all. So now, unless I get myself on a plane to Dallas in the next month or so, I won’t hold that precious little girl until Thanksgiving. I hope my niece feels better soon. Her husband is still testing negative, and the little one shows no signs of distress. There will be no room reveal for them this week, however, so here are some pictures of the reno'ed bedroom, a project envisioned and driven by my daughter. "I'm the project manager, you're the client," she told me at one point. "So just give me a budget and then sit back and let me handle the details." She consulted with me on all purchases, since its my house after all, and she was using my card, but the vision for the room is mainly hers. The grungy old carpet is gone, the vinyl flooring is new, the walls are painted fresh (I couldn't decide on an accent wall color, so white it is), and all the modular Scandinavian furniture has been assembled (there are the beautiful builders, in a picture taken before).
Not everything has been moved back in as yet, the shelves will eventually become much more full, as this room is also my husband's work studio, the place where he will make his stained glass boxes and icons, beaded Anglican rosaries, model sailing ships, design his floral arrangements, play his guitar, study Portuguese, and do whatever other creative pursuits catch his fancy. The room smells wonderfully like sawdust, with everything bright and clean and new. In contrast, our bedroom now feels like a dark pit, with way too much stuff in there, and a carpet twenty years old and crying out to be released from service.
I'm determined to get to my room too in my refresh chronicles. I feel almost light, thinking of all the material possessions I will get to divest myself of. But first, I have to turn this book in to the editor. I have a full first draft, and am working on addressing my subject's notes for the revision. In other words, we're quite far along. Best of all, she is very happy with what we've done. The heaviest lift (getting down a complete draft) is done. The painful part is over. And with one who is as personally generous and as nuanced a thinker as my current subject is, this part of the process is actually feeling like (dare I say it?) fun. Even so, the grind continues. There are many more stages of this book journey to go yet. Please know, dear friends, I'm reading your posts. I just don't always have enough free mental space to formulate a coherent comment.