Two Bits

Every year, my husband and I have a standing bet for twenty-five cents. I bet that we'll have snow, the snow doesn’t have to stick to the ground and flurries count, on Halloween or before and he, being the sport he is, says we won’t.

I think I might win a quarter this year.

The Color(a)tour(a)

Yesterday on what will probably prove to be the last great weekend day for driving around the area and seeing the trees expending all their efforts to dazzle in oranges, yellows and reds, we took our annual color tour. Our annual Coloratoura. During the ride and the stop at a coffee shop along a local lake shore where we refueled with good coffee and very good pumpkin bundt cake with cream cheese frosting drizzled with caramel, we came up with a few Thoughts on Fall.

1. Fall is all about presentation. Find the winding back road through the country and traveling down and up and twisting and turning through a brightly colored day. Observe the leaves still on the trees as well as the drifts of bright color from the fallen leaves dancing across the road, swept to the side as we pass. Side note to this thought: fall is messy, but worth it.

2. Fall is a performance piece. You have to go out into fall to really appreciate the staging. Leaves fluttering down from the trees, yellow brightening when caught in the sun. If the temps are not too cold, roll down the window and hear the crunch of the leaves and the sound of distant flocks of geese heading out of Dodge. Catch the faint hint of wood smoke in the air or the acrid smell of burning leaves. See not only the vivid hues of the trees but the rich dark red of apples at a roadside stand next to piles of pumpkins. Maybe, if you're lucky, there will also be cider.

3. Fall is best when enhanced by good coffee and very good pumpkin bundt cake with cream cheese frosting drizzled with caramel.

The uncertainty principle

There are many decisions involved in any project; color, size and shape, style, etc., but I know of few places where decisions are made more difficult because of the sheer number of choices as in a store selling light fixtures. Add to this the knowledge that the choices to be made were for a room that, as yet, only existed as a line drawing on a piece of paper and one wonders if Heisenberg wasn’t so much a Nobel prize winning physicist as a man whose house was being remodeled.

We had to visit one such store recently. By the time we left, we both had headaches and, if we hadn’t carried our final choices out with us, we would not have been able to recall what they were half a hour later. Too many choices bouncing around our brains.

When one looks at a large bronze outside light fixture with a carefully attained patina and a slip of wonderfully crackled glass, it is difficult to remember that you’ll need one for each side of the french doors and that the size of this particular choice will overwhelm everything. You need to close your eyes to remember the light will hang at eye level out the kitchen window and you’d better have some sort of smoky glass if you don’t want to blind yourself looking at a bare bulb. You need to keep in mind the entire structure. You need to remember this is the light you may have hanging outside that kitchen window for a long, long time.

I’m amazed we were able to make any choice at all.

This way to the Great Egress

We started a remodeling project a few weeks back. Because of this, there have been people in our home. They will continue to be in our home for a few more weeks. They are all, without exception, polite, gracious and even amusing. Yet all I can think of is that I want them to be gone. I want to thank them for their work and show them the door.

I want my privacy back.