It Is Me

  The rains from Hurricane Nicholas have reached the Bayou with a vengeance.  This is fine with me as I needed a break from outdoor chores and, at the same time, needed time to do some indoor ones.  The past few days have seen me painting all of the trim work in the dining room.  This includes painting the stair rails which, to be honest, is a task I deplore!  Painting those spindles is a pain.  I have no choice but to paint since they were painted before we installed them some forty years ago.  That is one of the bad parts about using reclaimed lumber.  You have to deal with paint, nail holes and all of the dents and dings of time.  Still, that is what makes the Little Bayou House comfy.  The quirkiness of the whole place brings a smile...at least, to me.

  The bad thing about all of this rain is our internet is spotty.  The lines are still down since Hurricane Zeta and do not appear to be something the cable company is keen on repairing.  So, we deal with it.  It is nice that our power lines have been repaired since that hurricane was almost a year ago. That thought crossed my mind as I turned on all of the odd lamps in the living room. The soft lights gave a certain coziness to the room and blocked out the darkness brought on by the thunderstorms.   By odd lamps, I mean just that.  Every lamp in the room is one that has some weird appeal to me.  There is the old Victorian, hand-painted glass lamp, a floor lamp from my uncle that now is draped with several masquerade masks and some feathers, a desk lamp that sports a beaded rose and an owl feather and yet another floor lamp that is a marriage of the base and lamp itself.  The base is an antique one from my grandparents that had somehow lost the light and the lamp is a hanging, beaded light from my daughter's room when she was a teenager.  Of course, that meant it had to be purple.  The stand is draped with an odd assortment of antique jewelry, a Christmas ornament and some cloisonne` bells.  It makes me happy so the quirkiness stays. 

  Recently, someone remarked that the oddities in the Little Bayou House made it inviting.  Well, maybe but not many folks venture down here.  The eccentricities go unnoticed and perhaps unappreciated by any but me.  Another person queried why I filled the place with things like this and my only thought was "Because it is me."  Like it or not, it is me.