The foyer and formal room are much more subdued, painted in subtle hues. The same cannot be said of my husband's office, which has received its first coat of orange...yes, orange. Thankfully, it's lighter than a pumpkin, but it's still darker than a Dreamsicle. His futon cover is beige, black, and purple, so he's got quite a color combination going on up there. All I can guess is that it's a throwback to his Polish genes.
The first floor is still in disarray, but I can work around it pretty easily. As long as I have room to sit and balance my laptop, I'm fine. I did have to tiptoe around paint cans and drop cloths when I took a bath last night, since our only tub is located in the bathroom adjacent to the office. I've always found it odd that the master bathroom only has a shower, but who am I to second-guess the wisdom of the Great Builder Gods?
I needed a good soak because I've started doing my exercise DVDs again, and my muscles are feeling the burn. I don't mind, as the aches simply confirm that I'm actually exerting my lazy body. But the tub is a real pain in the neck...it was apparently created with Mini Me in mind, and no normal-sized human can get a decent soak in its shallow, narrow confines.
Oh well...soon enough, I won't have to soak my aching muscles in the micro-tub anymore. I finalized the order for our hot tub, so within a few weeks I'll be able to totally immerse myself and luxuriate with chin-deep water and full-power jets. We ended up buying the first spa we looked at, despite my husband's annoyance with the manager. The winning factor was the fact that I actually fit into the lounge seat.
I have very short legs, which causes me endless annoyance in everyday life. From clothing, where I have the challenge of finding petite-length pants in lard-butt sizes, to horseback riding, where I have to keep my stirrups at a child's length, I continually curse my genetics; I have my grandmother's build (hopefully I inherited her other genes, too, since she lived a healthy life well into her 80s). I was amazed that both my husband and I found the Vita lounger to be comfy. He was fine in the Caldera model, but there was no way I could use the back jets and the feet jets simultaneous. I had to contort myself to reach one or the other.
I have a concrete contractor lined up, too, and I will hopefully get approval from the Architectural Review Committee next week. Then, it's more chaos as the backyard is buried under a slab of concrete and my new toy is installed.
Once again, I realize how lucky we were to end up with a triplex instead of a condo. Having a yard was a big draw for me, mainly because I love to be surrounded with a colorful, blooming flower garden. Now I realize a secondary benefit: there's no way a hot tub would fit onto a condo balcony! Our backyard isn't huge, but it's a fairly decent size. Our hedge makes it look deceptively small because it's not on the property line. But even when the part right behind the house becomes a slab, we'll still have a big, grassy area along the garage. I'd like to put out some patio furniture, but my husband insists it would look tacky (remember, he's married to a woman who puts a silver Christmas tree and Christmas Story "leg lamp" in her front window).
The spa itself will look very nice, but I figure I can add a touch of tackiness to that, too. It's nearly eight feet by eight feet, which is plenty of room for my inflatable raft. Don't be surprised if you're driving down an alley in East Village someday and catch sight of a woman passed out cold on a neon green plastic float in her hot tub.
I'll be so happy when all of the interior and exterior work is done and my home is back to normal. Actually, it will be better than normal...freshly painted walls inside and a nice, big, jetted tub in the back. Chaos is always a pain, but at least it's temporary...and I know the end result will be well worth it.
Learn more about Celebration on my website: www.celebrationinfo.com
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