There are expanses of white sand, ivory, and putty.
There are shutters, handmade by him,
handpainted by me.
There is a porch for dreaming.
There are antlers strung with vintage rosaries.
There are places to rest and read.
There are curtains made in Belgium.
(a wedding gift)
There are spare, quirky spaces which will never be done.
There are lots of baseballs and old silver.
There are too many shells to count.
There is tranquility.
There is sugar.
There are reminders of Scandanavia
and the beach.
There is a lovely dog.
