Our realtor stopped by late Saturday with her husband and her mother. She wanted to apologize for the other realtor confusing houses, getting our hopes up. She also wanted to show her mother The Skimmer's oil paintings that are hanging in every room of our house.
Our dark house.
When we moved in we painted the walls in the living room and into the kitchen a deep blue gray, to set a mood -- an intimate, oh, can't you just sink into it and aren't you just so comfortable? -- mood.
Our realtor made us bring extra lamps into the living room that were not turned on Saturday evening.
I offered them something to drink. As her daughter grabbed a couple of Cokes from the fridge, her mother, a cute little lady in her early 80s, looked around smiling, then raised her shoulders way up high while tilting her head to the right and said, "I love this room. I love your house. It's so cozy."
"Yeah. Thanks. You think so? Yeah, me too."