{in July}
I've been thinking about tansies a lot lately, inspired surely by late winter dreams and longings for green (!), flowery (!), growing (!) things...as well as a recent little house project. They're my favorite flower, that common tansy weed - just the most perfect of colors, delicate and subtle, with a fascinating texture, and always arriving at a favorite time of year - in the height of our summer.
Have I told you that the kitchen entry to this house - upon our first visit to it - was completely overrun by blooming tansies? I tried to be all calm and cool about that little detail and actually look at the rest of the house before saying 'yes, please!'...but, really now. She had me at the tansies.
This week, I've been painting our bedroom. It was the room that never quite made its way to the 'paint' list before we moved in. Not just because we ran out of time, or paint money, but mostly because it was lined with sleeping bags and gear from wall to wall as we made a mess in every other room of the house. It was the one safe and clear room. In all it's unpaintedness, it was a little refuge of sorts from dust, chaos and paint trays. I will never forget those weeks - that month - in this room with all of us, collapsing onto the floor each night in sheer new house excitement/exhaustion (with mama just freshly pregnant, to boot).
I've been waiting for a wintry stretch of days full of motivation to do something about this room. It finally struck these past weeks as I've begun thinking about making space for peaceful birthing and all the quiet, tender and restful moments of a new baby's life.
Tidying, rearranging, and painting - ceiling, floors, walls and trim, oh my! But oh, what a fresh coat of paint does. The paint is Yolo's Leaf .01 (my big paint post can be found here) and I think it just might be my current favorite. A little bit green, a little bit yellow in some light, definitely with a hint of mustard and a touch of goldenrod...
It's a new kind of refuge now, this space. I've done my best to make it the barest, simplest and cleanest of rooms in the house, the result being that it feels like a deep exhale to me. It reminds me of those tansies. It may not be their precise color - but there's a quiet hint of it in just the right light.
Soon enough, there will be a new life quietly napping in here. The windows will be open to the breeze on a bright, colorful and busy summer. And I will fill this room with little white milk glass vases full of those flowers.
