Last year, we painted the house yellow — and it turned from a upscale shack to a lowbrow cottage over the course of two weeks. This was Dennis’ last participation in one of my “projects” — he used to say the scariest words in any language were “I have an idea.”
The painting represented a new stage for me. I actually asked friends and colleagues for help — and received an abundance of it. I reveled in cooked gallons of tomato sauce with meatballs and without for my vegan friends. I participated in everything but high places.
And now I live in a bright yellow cottage with white trim, a maroon roof and dark maroon underpinnings. Flowers and plants grow around its somewhat battered base, and people smile — though some shake their heads — when they walk by.
Thanks everyone — especially you Dennis. You knew it was your swan song living with me here, and you still played along. That was classy.