home = heart
[musings on life inside a brooklyn railroad apartment]
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white on white on white.
Dear reader, can you fathom just how many shades of white there are in this crazy world? I’ll give you a rough estimate: 1 gamizillion.
There’s cloud white, nantucket white, white mocha, simple white, decorator’s white, carpenter’s white, astronaut’s white, white white, the list goes on and on and on…whites with pink, grey or blue undertones. Neutral whites and saturated whites (I may have made that last one up) to make your mind spin. The white that covered our bedroom walls fell into that neutral/grey/beige white family and it was time for an update. We also have two dressers that haven’t been re-painted since 19-fill-in-the-blank. It was time for a whiteout.
We desired a true white. No tones about it. After researching at the paint store, the choice was (somewhat) clear: super white. Yep, that’s the name. And they don’t even have to mix it for you. It just exists already, waiting for you to take it home and spend days re-painting it’s super over the old dusty white in your bedroom.
We got to work on Tuesday, starting later in the day and rapidly running through our first gallon. We hadn’t even touched the dressers yet. So the next day, we started early, working to finish the walls and then tackling those dressers and yesterday, finally, I finished the mirrors (oh yes, we had decided to paint our found-on-the-street mirror frames too). All white everything. Phew.
It’s a nice little spring face-lift. I can tell a difference. Maybe you can too?
(WAY…like two years ago) Before
After
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spring, schedules and playing pianos…
Hi there. Long time, no post. Turns out, things do get busier in spring. Phew. It’s only March, but this tricky, weird weather has fooled the crocuses into poking up and out of the ground. Daffodils have been spotted in Central Park and this week in NYC saw a 68 degree Thursday. It was…really nice actually.
Today, at the corner desk, I’m working on some other projects, theatrical and otherwise, so there’s not much home = heart to report on. So, I give you this: a photo of Polly-the-cat in our old apartment in Chicago.
This is a piano that Brendan bought from The Brown Elephant. Moving it into the apartment was an ordeal, but once it arrived, it seemed like a perfect addition to our place. A while after we had it delivered, we had it tuned which, it turns out, is quite an intimate experience. A charming older man named Glenn came to our apartment, tidily removed his shoes and began his work. He toiled silently for a while, tuning and tweaking the interior of the instrument. Then, finally, his work finished, he sat down at the bench. At the same moment, Brendan and I sat down to eat our lunch in the kitchen. Suddenly the apartment was filled with music. Glenn played a gorgeous sonata that made us feel like royalty. We just smiled at each other, knowing that this piano in our house would most likely never make these sounds again. Amazing.
The piano remains in this apartment. Our friend Hilary lives there now and I hope she plays it now and then. It was too expensive to move. I have a feeling it’ll remain there for a very long time.
Also, I miss that pink wall.
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a rainy day in brooklyn
Good afternoon to you and yours. It’s a gray day in Brooklyn, complete with chilly rain falling and broken umbrellas on the city streets. I’ve already ventured out to the city for an audition and am back in the cozy confines of our apartment. Brendan is making chicken salad (the chicken goes on!) and tomato soup. Perfect for this kind of rainy day.
I’ve not reported on any major home projects of late; things have started to pick up a bit on the audition front, thank goodness, so I leave you with a little snapshop from the day. Close-up on a piece of beautiful Afghan fabric we bought while on our honeymoon in Australia. It functions as a nice little bedcover and adds a little stripe to the room…
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trying new things, vol. 1
This past Saturday, I roasted my very first chicken. I know, I know, it’s not rocket science, but I was excited to make my first foray into fowl-land. Here be my steps.
- I chose a really simple recipe from my go-to cookbook, aptly titled “How to Cook Everything” by Mark Bittman.
- I bought a bird from Trader Joe’s.
- I declared aloud that I would cook it.
- I cooked it.
It was pretty darn simple really (as anyone who has ever done it could have told me), and it seems like there are endless variations on herb placement, spice additions, etc. I used some big fat sprigs of tarragon, rosemary and thyme along with a halved lemon and the flavor was delightful. I was most surprised by the crazy sound the thing made as it was roasting away. So loud!
Now, cooking in our kitchen is a delicate dance with intricate steps and a careful rhythm that is much easier performed solo. As a duet, it’s tricky. So I was happy to have the kitchen to myself for this endeavor. However, the fruits of my labor were enjoyed by the both of us, of course.
That’s all to report for now. Next up, stock-making!
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nothing to report…
…just a beautiful day in Brooklyn. Sun shining, people on the streets, windows cracked a bit to let some fresh air in. You know, spring in February!
Here in the apartment, I blog from under the covers. One cat sits at the edge of the bed, sleeping. Another is elsewhere, hiding. The light from the day is fading and nighttime approaches. I didn’t wear socks outside today, nor did I wear a coat. This made me happy.
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