Photographs were taken. Dances were danced. Phone calls were made. Television crews filmed, newscasters reported. (Well, not really on the filming or news reports. But they should have.)
The maroon curtains are down. Dismantled. An ugly memory.
Excuse me, I’m feeling a little emotional here.
Because not only are the curtains a pile of excreted maroon on the living room floor, but the living room walls are GREEN. (A happy green, not a mental institution green…except in artificial light. But we have other rooms to hang out in after dark.)
Yup, curtains came down, I painted my little heart out, and voila! I’m not embarrassed when people come to my house anymore!
Does anyone know a blue whale who needs a maroon ball gown?