Shooting the breeze

This is a true story. Really.

When Those Two moved into this house, back in 2004, they agreed on most everything when it came to decorating — except these curtains. Mama C thought they looked cheap, but Mama G saw beauty in them. Or so the story goes, since I wasn’t around at the time. But I know it’s true.

The curtains are in the room that serves as their “office,” a sunny little space dominated by a large desk and shelves of books, and possessing a delightful view of the woods out back. Mama G imagined this as a place where she would be inspired to do a lot of writing. Mama G likes to say that she was born to write. She pictured herself at the desk, tapping madly away at the keyboard, trying to keep up with the profound thoughts that spilled forth like a burst dam, those sheer curtains dancing behind her in the summer breeze.

Mama C let her have her curtains. Funny thing is, I seem to be the only one doing any writing in this room.