Extreme Room Makeover and a Picnic

My room is going orange. At least, the one sheet rock wall is being painted orange, and I think that pretty much takes care of the rest of the room! Thanks to Mattie, Dad, and Mom, our room is getting a makeover. An extreme makeover.

I don't really know what started it-- the psychedelic new bedspread Mattie Kate got for Christmas, or the new rug someone gave us for Connor's room, which also produced a string of renovations. Having a house painter for a dad helped. Even though he painted the wall purple just last spring, he dove in cheerfully and did it over in orange to match the bedspread. And of course the curtains no longer match, so Mom and Mattie have spent the day making new ones out of a bedsheet purchased for the purpose. Mattie seems to be financing the operation. I haven't had anything to do with it, besides dazedly granting permission for my nook to be blitzed. The changes are quite drastic, and I can't say I would have chosen those exact colors myself, but I have to admit, it's...well...stunning. Blinding, in fact.

I figure that, by lamplight (when I spend most of my awake-time in my room) the orange should be muted to a warm, tranquil glow, and by letting Mattie have her way for a change I can sooth an achy conscience for all the miserly space-hogging I've done since she came to share the room with me! Oh, and the very best part is the floor-- imitation wood laminate to replace the depressing carpet. Dad bartered for it. It's smooth and cool, and mercifully un-hunter green :) Wow, thinking about all this makes me really thankful! And Dad is so sweet to redo the room for his girls.

Ethan and I had a picnic earlier by the creek. It was a perfect day, and I was off of work earlier than I expected. He went dressed to the hilt in his jeans, cowboy hat, checkered flannel shirt, and pretend pistols (in holsters). He sat on the stream bank, placidly chewing his peanut butter and banana sandwich. He really is such a contemplative little personage. He chewed and thought, and asked odd questions, and chewed and thought again. Consequently, I could've built a second Taj Mahal before he finished eating. So I sat sunning myself like a turtle, pondering the chocolate residing beneath my right thumbnail and wishing I'd remembered the napkins.

By the way, the world is a very geometric place. Extremely geometric. It took making mosaics for a couple of weeks for me to figure that out. Take corn chips for example. Edible geometry. All shapes and sizes. Then, try laying under a tree in February, before the leaves are out. Not only is the trunk more or less a cylinder, but the branches splay out in all directions, fracturing the sky into a big, frenzied mosaic. Mosaics haunt me now...shadows on the wall, bits of cookie, peoples' teeth...

I'm going to quit now and either study math or sew. It may be an awfully inconvenient time for it to happen, but I think another mad little sewing frenzy is developing. We shall see.