The guest bedroom. Bless it's little heart. It was so ugly and dirty. And I don't use those words often. But it was.
See that on the wall over there? You don't wanna know.
There had been an estate sale here right before we moved in. One careless customer moved some of the furniture out of here themselves and the floor has a huge gouge going across it. Just another scar added to a lifetime of wear and tear.
We lived in this room for the time our bedroom was being worked on. I have an affinity to this sad little room, because of that first month of nights in the new house.
We painted it a buttery yellow and hung a chandelier to replace the ceiling fan. I know, who in the south takes down a ceiling fan? But I had to do it. The room deserved something pretty. Sadly, though, this room once again became the stepchild of the house. We moved all of the crap from everywhere else in here while other projects were completed.
You couldn't even walk in here. I would just turn on the light and stand in the doorway as "Oh dear God" escaped my lips in a whisper.
But now, it looks like this. And this isn't even a recent picture. I have since added draperies and some additions to the bedding.
It's clean and revived. You might even call it the crown jewel of the upstairs. A bit overdone maybe. Chandelier, toile everywhere, fancy chair that no one's allowed to sit in. But this room deserved to be pampered a little.
We have not even slept a night in here since it's had its facelift. It now houses best friends and mother-in-laws and the occasional late night friend that had a little too much fun. This room and I are like old friends. The kind that know about your deep gouges and unmentionable wall splatters. The kind that you can dump all of your crap onto and they love you anyway.