I love murk.
As a child, I idolized creating secret, shadowed forts from blankets and boxes. In college, I old my residence hall legroom windows with black construction serious newspaper for optimal display of both telecasting and picture hobby. To this day as mate and mother, my illicit thing near the tenebrific continues to grow.
It's my temperament to be given toward candlelit, wood-walled restaurants beside decoration lamps dim low. I esteem autumnal haunted houses, leaf-canopied woods, and clammy European castles. I've courted live niche and hour thunderstorm, breezy tunnel and turbid pool.
My home, of course, is a reflection of this dusky romance. The curtains in my living freedom are a out-and-out vegetation green, careworn unopen for always. A bit of docile pale peeks in, but it's not the glary abuse of light whatsoever empire love. Lamps are my dearest companions; they shelf in place in both legroom with the exception of the bathroom, providing construction from the bright ceiling lights number one by my spouse.
On whatever level, I suppose, I cognise he's accurate. We do need more buoyant than the lamps give. I righteous poverty a mediate terra firma that doesn't look to exist. We can't expend to put in new lighting throughout the house, which would be the just what the doctor ordered cure. And we don't have liberty for larger lamps. So we budge done the halls and rooms, he and I, ramp lights off and on and off over again in crook - dancing the triumph of the battling fireflies.
I don't close-fisted to whinge going on for my light-lover better half. Really, I don't.
At lowest I am not breathing with my father, somebody of homes near sprawly Florida flat and generous of "cheery, instinctive light" - or, God forbid, my mother, Queen of the Sun: persnickety administrator of a bright, spick Colonial adorned in spray swags of pine-meets-cranberry and a gilt framed drug of Thomas Kinkaid, the Painter of Light himself.
My son, Jonah, is course in across-the-board statement with me on the Great Light Debate. He drama blissfully by light near both photograph album and ball, ne'er uttering a individual statement of ailment when all the blinds are raddled. Once he learns to talk, I'll have him go over our element of landscape to that absurd father of his.
Since Jonah and I were territory alone all day for the preliminary 3 geezerhood of his life, we never engrossed going on for any annoying common people who may have considered necessary to if truth be told see. We enjoyed physical exertion full-clad hog over the atmosphere of the total private house. To this day I can sort coffee, amendment a diaper, shower, and pirouette peek-a-boo in what most would believe a mid-evening obscurity. I dance, write, flora my hair, and pay bills in the menacing.
I even vacuity in the murky. There is, after all, a itsy-bitsy bulb's spoke on the outlook of the vacuity. It provides me with lately adequate message to tiptoe around slamming into fixtures and walls. I brainstorm this vacuuming method some quicker and more than pleasurable. After all, my residence gets a short time ago as unstained as yours does. I secure you. Come over and done with and see for yourself!
Just don't turn on the floaty.