It is a jewel of seaglass and the pale gray of driftwood, and the color of stillness. I am thrilled at the outcome of this long planned and long awaited project.
With many thanks, hugs and kisses for Pete Gleason, musician, friend and bathroom remodeler extraordinaire and my wonderful, hard working and loving husband, Bob. They both took my vision and created this most beautiful of rooms.
The square footage is tiny and there is no way to expand, so every inch was used. The only things that remain from its previous beige existence are the white china towel holders and the bathtub itself. Three and 1/2 walls are now 12×24 gray porcelain tiles with a ribbon of frosted glass inlay mosaic tiles the colors of sea glass. The wall left is clad in 3/4 inch wood paneling in a taller than usual wainscoting and a new wooden door with lots of personality are all painted Silent White to match the new vanity.
White marble is used on the counter top of the new vanity as well as the trim and baseboards. I took a tip from HGTV and used marble floor thresholds as the baseboards. And it is just the prettiest thing I ever saw!
Brushed nickel fixtures, lighting and door hardware add to the beauty of this calming and soothing room.
And the little cabinet is a great find from an antique store in Ozark, MO. It is a dental cabinet constructed entirely from wooden fruit crates. It has tiny drawers inside the right door, made for the tools and implements needed for a dentist in the early 20th century. I painted it a pale aqua and it is adorable!
This room is a joy to behold and makes me so happy each time I walk in.
We woke to the sound of sleet on the roof and wild geese flying over the house on the way to the cove.
Then the big gorgeous flakes began to fly too.
Now the cedar trees are filled with cardinals, finches and juncos. We have dove, blue jays, titmice and chickadees too. And a brown thrasher showed up at the suet feeder as well as a little downy woodpecker to share a morning treat.
It is still snowing and we will end up with 6-8 inches by the end of today. And I know everyone in the eastern US is ready to see the snow go away, but this is our first snowfall of the season and it is BEAUTIFUL!
sleet colored sky
streaked with wings
of wild geese
and clouds of bird song
And there I will abide
Abide seems to be a word
filled with soft meaning
and deep intent
I will abide
belong, rest, take comfort, dwell,
I will abide
withstand, endure, await, sojourn
accepting without hesitation
I will abide
My love is my abode
His limbs pillars of fragrant cedar
To shield me in my rest
His arms are oaks of sinew and might
Silver is on his head
Burnished and gleaming
Sapphire his eyes
More beautiful than the morning sky
His heart of precious stones
More valuable than the kings stores
He calls my name
And I am safe
My love is my love
And there I will abide
Counting back to that first glance, seconds and minutes,
hours and years, the desire and candor of bodies,
when our days became charged with the pace of lives lived.
Years of longing renounce the yearning to another,
no longer young. The clamor of middle years
leaves satisfaction and knowledge in its place,
a quietness whose heft outweighs the struggles.
Wisdom is as wisdom does, patience is its own reward,
love never fails, never. And this is the choice,
made and kept, to choose you now and at each sunrise.
Until the day comes that my hand is not recognizable to you
And my laughter is silenced by your unknowing eyes.
Translating the ancient language of our long marriage-
Our vocabulary of years, memory and choices:
Love as verb Cor ad cor loquitur…Heart speaks to heart
Love as noun Amor vencet omnia…Love conquers all
But in the diagramming of that sentence is the lie-
Time, not love, is the conqueror
And our end is closer than our beginning. Eheu fugaces labuntur anni
Alas the fleeting years slip by In ictu oculi
In the blink of an eye…. Tempus fuget
Time will not stand still-
autumn has deepened
across the Ozarks ridge
and you are not here.
You could be in Tuscany
for all I know,
flirting with the grandmothers
with your beautiful blue eyes
and smiling at the children
playing in the piazza
as you drink espresso
and trade lies
with the young men.
I can see the warm Italian sun
against your silver mane,
so handsome and at ease
strolling up the cobblestone path
with golden sunflowers
and a good bottle of red.
I walk my cloistered walk
alone in our empty room.
I will trade our bed for the narrow cot
of a nun
and cast my longings into prayers
But you are not in Italy.
you are working long days
in the high lonesome desert of west Texas
where the autumn stars are out
as you lie in your own monks cot
to say good night.