pink

Almost a year ago we moved from a 180+ yr.-old farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere to a conveniently situated 1958 pink brick & vinyl-clad 'California split". We bought it from the estate of the original owner who, until the day she went into a nursing home, lived in the original decor. Avocado green sculptured and gold & orange shag carpets, brown kitchen appliances with pink and gray Formica, pink tile and tub, a blue and white foil 'chinoise' dining room wallpaper mural, a gold and silver foil 'bonsai' wallpaper mural on the living room feature wall, pink brick fireplace, and an exhaustive study of pink wallpapers. Considering that outside, under the pink vinyl siding lies the original pink asbestos shingle siding- inside under what carpet we haven't yet been brave enough to pull out lies pink and brown asbestos tile - 'Mother's' fondness for pink will probably never be completely unrealized. What few upgrades that had been made must have happened past the age of available pink options for toilets and sinks- she chose green (in the case of one lavatory sink, green with swirling gold flecks). This must have been painful to her, she held on to the original pink toilet tank covers. (I know that pain, you can't get pink Chuck Taylor high tops either.) Pink azaleas dot the yard. The exterior doors were painted 'pepto' pink but they were the first to go. We're still easy enough to give directions to- not one other pink house in the whole neighborhood. I'm a little sorry I missed seeing the car and the wardrobe. There was a husband-years ago. From the contents of the shed I surmise he spent a lot of time outside. Older neighbors told me he had been an orchestra conductor. That explains the stacks of 'Etude' magazines dating back to the nineteenth century we found in the basement. They also told me he had an idea of recultivating some ancient South American grain that would feed the masses. Apparently this was more than just a passing fancy, something called a 'seed sorter' the size of a cement mixer occupies a corner of the shed along with some other piece of machinery of the same scale. When we first looked at the house there was a huge organ in the 'rumpus' room (origin of that word, please). A good fifth of the basement is out-fitted with a model train platform. (Conductor/conductor?) He's been dead for twenty years but they're still sending his voter registration card in the mail. (hmm) She still gets mail from the RNC (how large is that constituency?). We even know the names of the children, they have their own assigned fuses in the fuse box. We found a small photo of the exterior of a piano store bearing their name. We also found unopened reams of stock certificates in the basement... also a garden statue of a napping Mexican. The attic contains hundreds of life-jackets. Isn't that interesting?