Thank you Max Factor, Thank you. There’s nothing that makes a Hollyweed dame feel ready for her close up than a little make up. You know, a little foundation (the primer coat), a little color on the cheeks (the paint), and a little lightening on the top (the ceiling). And best of all a brand new pair of shoes in white washed oak with a 7 ½ inch plank. I would have laughed a month ago when I arrived here and I still had only studs, bare wiring, and exposed plumbing, if you told me that I would be sitting here this evening with the house painted and the hardwood floor laid. Today I even had daydreams of furniture and no more workers making a mess that I constantly clean up.
I’m not saying that this little starlet is ready for her debut, but the progress is remarkable. There’s still much to do. Water continues to be an issue (but probably only in my head), there’s no kitchen or bathroom, and the baseboard trim and the electrical outlet covers need to be installed. Not that all those in that list are of equal difficulty mind you. But we’re getting there! Oh, and not to mention four ceiling fans (two outside), three track lights, storm doors, and several dimmers, and some fairy dust. Yes, lots of fairy dust.
But at least the drywall dust is gone. I’ve never built a house and I never knew how complicated it could be. But there is something fulfilling about it. From the day Uncle Benny surveyed the foundation and I placed Ray’s ashes in the mortar for the cement blocks, I’ve known this is the right thing for me to do. Besides, it makes my Daddy grin and I like that. I know everything about this little house, all it’s little quirks and boo boos. They’re of my making and I love it. And it’s just a little house! I can’t believe the drama that would be involved in building something bigger.
I’ve made a couple of screw ups along the way, for sure, but I hope you’ll come anyway and see just how magical this particular location can be. I’ve a very, very nice front porch. Over the past few weeks I’ve watched it transform from bleak winter to verdant, budding spring (glorious!) to now when it’s nearly summer. Everything is now green and leafy, even the big old oak (I’ve named it the Wise One) has finally decided it’s time.
There’s something here that just feels really good to me. I suppose it’s the familiarity, maybe it’s the rhythm of the beauty, or perhaps because it’s simply the antithesis of West Hollywood and Los Angeles. But I think if I search deep I might know what it is. I haven’t felt “at home,” anywhere, since Ray died, and I’ve searched the world over. It seems rather ironic to me that it would be here that I have those thoughts. But I’m going to explore them in a new frame of mind (and a new house).
Maybe Wise One is telling me something: It’s time.