Sweetness and light I am not. I’m a surly old broad. I fail to understand why I am not treated like royalty everywhere I go…do they not know who I am…???
I’m much like Francis in this wonderful short film. A grouchy old fuss-budget-know-it-all. Able to be plied with sweets. But I want to be like Bella – self-assured, friendly and inquisitive.
A few days ago I met a dear friend for lunch, and then had the treat of accompanying her to a house showing. Who doesn’t love to nosey around a house for sale?! The old cottage itself was a bit of a fixer-upper, increasingly less common in this area. And often the victim of vampire flippers looking to make a quick profit. This cottage had been shared by three sisters who were either deceased now, or too elderly to travel here. A pencil portrait of one of them hung above the bookcase in the living room, as if they had always intended to return. This had never been a year-round home, but a getaway. It was a little gem waiting to be loved again.
The realtor made a comment about the potential here if someone had the vision. My first thought was that my friend has vision! She is a remarkable person, and one of my favorite artists. But I didn’t say that – instead I started espousing what I would do with the place. I have vision, too, you know. I guess I was having a sudden fit of jealousy, and I must have sounded like a right ass.
I loved the acre of woods hiding the house so protectively, the long two-track dirt drive we had to back up and search for…the fir floors, white bead board walls, the mullioned windows. A fairy tale cottage in the woods if ever I’d seen one.
Oh, I do so hope my friend comes to live in the cottage. She would be closer to me. I want her closer, in hopes she will be patient with me, like Bella is patient with Francis. Of course she will. She always is. And being with her is healing in so many ways. Patience is healing. Being seen is healing. Being vulnerable is healing. I want to be vulnerable with my hopelessly romantic little life.
A Painterly Home 