perch

Kathy Calderwood sent me a present, this beautiful, tiny superball painting. I hung it in the niche at the top of the tiger stairs. I call this niche my perch. Hamish calls it the deck.
The black banister.
Shelves I bought from the deceased next door's daughter. Painted them "Artichoke Hearts." I have next to nothing to put on them yet.
The master bath is 99.9% complete. Still have to hang the hand-towel holders, and I'm sensing the need for a vase of cherry branches. Or something.
I forgot to turn on the shower when I took this pic like they do in the shelter magazines.
Another perch.
This is where I come to blog.
Painted the fire screen white. That was my friend's idea, and a good one.
Painted the porch floor white. I'm going for a space-aged look out here.
My friend gifted me this amazing Maharam fabric as a housewarming. It's called Quatrefoil. I got these consignment shop chairs upholstered in it. Very exciting. I gaze upon them often.
The bedroom is very spare. Some people call it spare. I think it's unfinished. Add a loveseat at the foot of the bed? A settee? A giant flat screen TV that rises via remote control from a custom-designed bench? Dunno. I also wish the headboard were a little higher so I could sit up in bed and lean against it like they do on TV instead of lie practically horizontal with my book, which I suspect isn't as cinematic. But oh well, if that's my biggest problem, right? The mattresses these days are just so darn thick.
Hello again, chairs.