But I'm clumsy at times.
As in, inopportune times.
Book over water, red wine glass on white table linen, socks on stairs.
Oh yes. I recently took a slip-tumble-bounce down 11 hardwood stairs.
My arm is worst off, secondly everything else.
My body hurts for longer and pains more compounded as I age. And I'm not even old.
So says I.
Anyway, no writing in the bath. Claw foot and all.
Here is our lovely bathroom. A little Art Deco, 20's feel, with these lilac, yet sedate, walls.
Oh, I always wanted a purple room!
The colour is not overwhelming or even obvious.
You may not even remark upon the shade, it's so delicate.
But incidentally they're lavender or lilac or iced grape.
We have a picturesque view of our "Aer Motor" wind-driven power generator from Chicago.
Circa 1920 ish?
Were my grandmas even born?
Of course it hasn't been pumping water from the well to our cistern recently. Electricity is also good.
But a reminder of the farm's past. Very awesome.
Ingenious workings. All the remnants of the early endeavours are rather fascinating.
I did very little here. I won't be taking credit from Darcy and Paula who made this house as classic, time correct and dramatic as it is. Just a tad of chiselling, caulk, paint and a deep clean. You're meant to do that when you arrive someplace new. Though I must comment this may be the cleanest farm house, ever. I hope to keep it so nice.
I know we certainly appreciate it's status and alllllll the wee perfect details.
Knobs! Grates! Doors! Fixtures!
It's kind of (okay laugh all you like) Native Art Deco. But it is, right?
Until I have anything more fitting, it'll stay right there.
The colours are good.
The black and white tiles...
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