One of the biggest changes I made to this house started back in February, documented in this earlier post on remodeling (and chaos). Here’s a “before” shot of the room behind the mysterious plastic drape in that post —
Of course it’s nothing like a real (William) Morris Room, say the cafe at the V&A in London, but I can dream, can’t I?
When we first moved in, Bob liked the dark paneling, and I didn’t mind it. Though I eventually came around to the idea of painting it to lighten the room, without help, I doubt I would have trusted anyone to do a good job on the painting. Now I’m indebted to my organizer/designer/Renaissance woman helper, Leigh, able to leap small buildings and boss around unruly contractors. Here’s the room on the way to getting emptied out.
Transition continues with painting, and the bar area gets enclosed —
There is one funny thing about all these changes. As each project gets completed, I feel a little thrill of recognition — as if somehow I knew all along this is what I would end up doing, and how it would turn out, even if I couldn’t have articulated it before. I’m hoping that means I’m on the right path.
How’d we do? Let me know what you think — about the room, that is, not about how I’m a day late on the Delta photo challenge.
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