Our move is complete. We officially live in Laguna Beach now. The house is somewhat old, and actually very charming, with creaking wood, high ceilings and lots of character...part of which is a pretty quirky kitchen, with hand-painted tiles, hand-painted cabinets, hand-painted beams...yes, you get the picture. Who knew blue and pink could get on your nerves so badly?
We have a sense of ravishing newness, and happiness, Tony and I. We can't believe we can wake up and walk to a breathtakingly beautiful beach, reminiscence in geography of Waikiki and Diamond Head on Honolulu, where we vacationed last year. We go home and start our day, in a large home with dark wood, white walls made of real plaster, a wide sunny courtyard, and so many locks and doors that I feel like a castle chatelaine with a giant bunch of keys at my waist. We are faced with an unpleasant truth though...some of our furniture looks plain ol' bad in this house. Although we bought a new pale cocoa brown microfiber sectional for our previous house, it's as unsuitable as white vinyl go-go boots in church in this one. We also have the Virginia-made desks, wooden English tables, about a thousand different-colored towels (including a set of tired yellow ones with my previous marriage initials, which I happily threw out today), and weird curios from our separate career travels around the country and world. Who knew we both had shot glass collections? We didn't know we did. I'd thrown mine out yesterday without telling him, so when we found out we were both "shot-glass-guilty," he bravely picked up the banner of NO REMORSE/NO HOARDING and voluntarily threw his out too! Now that's marital solidarity. So long, Galveston, Mackinac Island, San Antonio, Australia, Boston, North Carolina, New Orleans, Detroit, San Antonio and Death Valley shot glasses! I only hope we can dispose of our tired furniture in the same remorseless manner.
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