Ach, mein little pusses, we’ve finished repainting the dining room and it looks seriously fabulash. And by “we” I mean “Urban Street Pirate/Superagent Fred” because R Man absolutely refuses to allow me to handle a loaded paintbrush, ever since we attempted painting a fireplace in his old apartment 26 years ago. I gestured airily at something (probably explaining what a nitwit he is. I do that a lot) and wound up leaving a trail of semi-gloss drops across the rug and him since I was holding a brush at the time. Well, I was painting, wasn’t I ? Of course I had a paintbrush in my hand. He can’t remember where he left his glasses this morning, but he can still cling to a tiny little mistake from a quarter of a century ago.
We also scored a new little cabinet and lamp for an awkward spot between two big windows that does quite well. The chest is lacquered over rice paper with the history of the Han dynasty printed on it and the lamp has little carved Jade panels set in it. Lovely.
I keep meaning to post this shot of a house out by the beach that I’m wild for. While the phrase “California beach” brings to mind blue skies and sun-kissed muscley surfer boys, the beach here is usually foggy and grey. Although there are surfer boys, thank heavens. So this little blast of garishly saturated color out there is always most welcome.