During Spring Break in 2010, I purchased some new furniture with the help of a good friend and Christian sister, Rosemary Martin. Two days after the new stuff from IKEA was delivered, Rosemary's husband, Lee, came over and rehung all the plaques and pictures taken off my wall during Hurricane Ike. I love my apartment but as you can tell, I need some help. This is from July 27, 2007.
(DISCLAIMER: The apartment shown above is not mine!)
It's unusual for me to be writing on a Friday afternoon but there are mitigating circumstances. Even as I type, my apartment is being painted, necessitating my vacating for about five hours. In the past week or so, I've spent countless hours preparing for this paint job and next week's laying of new carpet. It's pretty simple. When the painters re-do an occupied apartment, they ask the residents to prepare in two ways:
A. Move all furniture to the middle of the respective room.
B. Take everything off the walls.
Those are straight forward directions. The last thing I did this morning was to reposition my desk-table-cabinets-chairs, etc. as well as stuff as much as I could in the bedroom closet, which is not going to be redone. I've been in the same place for nine years, almost to the day, and it's due for some work. A home looks different when its walls are stripped bare. The big dilemma for me after the paint dries is rehanging the pictures and plaques. The mother-daughter team of Loa and Amber Glenn called the shots the last time and they have volunteered to help me out once more. I have no concept of what looks good where and the spacing of framed materials. The eyes of Loa and Amber see what is invisible to me. I'll probably be featured in next month's Southern Living magazine.
I did notice something interesting as I waited for the painter to arrive. The walls were more marred and scarred than I had noticed. Devoid of photographs and memorabilia, I saw the nail holes and the scratches. I could tell where my bed has rubbed against the wall, revealing a greenish paint in the previous layer. It was obvious where my fingers had missed reaching for the lights and left a residue around the switch. When the decorations were removed, the true state of my apartment came to light. I hadn't thought it was that bad. I am a good tenant. I don't kick the walls or throw stuff in anger but day-to-day life has taken its toll. It was gradual but I would have been unhappy had the apartment been in that condition when I moved in. When I walk back in within the hour, I expect to be greeted by my old apartment, only better. A little paint goes a very long way. Maybe some of us could stand a spiritual paint job as well. We're doing OK but in doing OK admit we could be better. We tend to use the term revival in a group sense but it is just as applicable individually. After all, they only painted one unit today in the Braesridge Apartments. One was enough for me.
Applicable quote of the day:
"Home is any four walls that enclose the right person."
Helen Rowland
God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1
www.hawleybooks.com
E-mail me at steve@hawleybooks.com
(DISCLAIMER: The apartment shown above is not mine!)
It's unusual for me to be writing on a Friday afternoon but there are mitigating circumstances. Even as I type, my apartment is being painted, necessitating my vacating for about five hours. In the past week or so, I've spent countless hours preparing for this paint job and next week's laying of new carpet. It's pretty simple. When the painters re-do an occupied apartment, they ask the residents to prepare in two ways:
A. Move all furniture to the middle of the respective room.
B. Take everything off the walls.
Those are straight forward directions. The last thing I did this morning was to reposition my desk-table-cabinets-chairs, etc. as well as stuff as much as I could in the bedroom closet, which is not going to be redone. I've been in the same place for nine years, almost to the day, and it's due for some work. A home looks different when its walls are stripped bare. The big dilemma for me after the paint dries is rehanging the pictures and plaques. The mother-daughter team of Loa and Amber Glenn called the shots the last time and they have volunteered to help me out once more. I have no concept of what looks good where and the spacing of framed materials. The eyes of Loa and Amber see what is invisible to me. I'll probably be featured in next month's Southern Living magazine.
I did notice something interesting as I waited for the painter to arrive. The walls were more marred and scarred than I had noticed. Devoid of photographs and memorabilia, I saw the nail holes and the scratches. I could tell where my bed has rubbed against the wall, revealing a greenish paint in the previous layer. It was obvious where my fingers had missed reaching for the lights and left a residue around the switch. When the decorations were removed, the true state of my apartment came to light. I hadn't thought it was that bad. I am a good tenant. I don't kick the walls or throw stuff in anger but day-to-day life has taken its toll. It was gradual but I would have been unhappy had the apartment been in that condition when I moved in. When I walk back in within the hour, I expect to be greeted by my old apartment, only better. A little paint goes a very long way. Maybe some of us could stand a spiritual paint job as well. We're doing OK but in doing OK admit we could be better. We tend to use the term revival in a group sense but it is just as applicable individually. After all, they only painted one unit today in the Braesridge Apartments. One was enough for me.
Applicable quote of the day:
"Home is any four walls that enclose the right person."
Helen Rowland
God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1
www.hawleybooks.com
E-mail me at steve@hawleybooks.com
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