Murky Monday

The sky is completely overcast, the air is damp and the temperature is 63 degrees. Feels much more like a day in late October than one in early August!. It doesn't normally rain in my part of the world at this time of the year, but today looks and feels like an "it could rain day."

Why is Monday so difficult and why does it feel so different from other days of the week? It is the beginning so it should feel good. A whole new week, all fresh and new. Instead, for most of us it feels, "oh no, five more days until the weekend."

Today the painting of one wall, a strip behind a door, will be finished and that will be the last of the "Maypole Green". We will switch to the last wall, a small "island" that contains a closet and separates the bedroom from the little attached dressing room. The way this is laid out is quite elegant and adds grace and charm to my 1950's tract house. The dressing room is Paloma with woodwork in Whisper Pink. These colors will be used on the island wall. The colors are complementing one another nicely. Eventually, I hope to have the long, long living room wall painted the same green as we are using in this room. Even more eventually, because it would mean boxing up (or downsizing) a couple of thousand books, my office could do with a re-do too.

So the makeover projects, something new, are progressing nicely and I am pleased and excited that life will go forward.

Soon I hope to be an Etsy seller and to be posting links! The space will be there, clean and new for me to play and work in.

While my life proceeds with quiet joy and charm, I also reflect on the date today. This is August 6, 2007. Sixty-two years ago today a terrible bomb was dropped on a city far away whose name has become synonymous with horror and survival. Hiroshima, Japan. I grew up in the shadow of that bomb, that war and the Holocaust in Europe. Will we ever live in Peace?

Today is a day then for hope for peace and remembrance of those who died so horrifically. And those who have died so terribly in all the wars. We have a long way to go to make peace. But we can hope. A friend and I are folding paper cranes because they are beautiful and because they make us remember the story of the girl who, hoping that if she could fold 1000 cranes she would not die of the radiation sickness that had poisoned her from the detonation of that then new bomb on her city. She did not live, but worldwide, whenever people make paper cranes, we think of her and pray and hope for peace.