The Red House

When I go to town, I like to shake things up a bit and travel around, as I do my errands and business, by different and varied paths. I read years ago we mature peeps should add variety to our life—including driving different ways to the same old places. Apparently, it’s good for our brain cells. Hmmm. . . okay. I'm game. But I also love to see how people have fixed up their homes! Many houses in our area have been improved and/or updated to look quite fantastic. With new paint or new landscaping or even just a new front door, the sometimes simple changes are effective and make a positive impact on the neighborhoods. HGTV and DIY can be thanked for some of this enthusiasm, don’t you agree?

So one day last week, I’d finished my errands and was headed to the casa when I came up to an intersection I’ve visited thousands of times in 38 years. My eyes were immediately drawn to a RED house across the street. WHAT? It had been a pink (or beige?) brick house for most or all of those years. It was now, without a shadow of a doubt, bright apple/barn RED.

I’ve paused—in mid-typing air. I’m going back, in my mind, to re-create that moment when I saw Red. Slightly stunned is probably a good way to describe my immediate reaction. But then I must admit—I smiled. It’s big, brave and bold. I rather admire the chutzpah it took someone to “go for it” in such a striking and memorable way.

The home TLC grew up in and we owned for 22 years was a “ranch” style with beige brick and beige-y rock. About 16 years in, Hubby bought shutters one pretty Spring day, at my insistence. He painted them French blue. Yep—my idea. Every single time I drove into our driveway after that, even if it was four times in one day, I was surprised. It wasn’t my house. How could I not adore the blue? I gave it about three months and then re-painted the shutters one weekend—all by my little lonesome. Hubby refused to help me. Although he doesn’t refuse me much—he did opt to pass up this opportunity. He kindly stated he’d done what I asked and he thought it was all “fine.” Since I couldn’t take the shutters down, I tried a dark gray (or grey, TLC) paint and it seemed better. Kinda/sorta. Not really.

So as I think today about The RED House, I’m wondering if the owners/renters are having as hard of a time as I had trying to adjust to their new color. Whoever made the decision to go RED must have truly needed a major change. Have they had regrets? Do they wish they had gone with a pale yellow or light gray (oops--grey)? I’ll probably never know. I do plan to smile each time I see The RED House. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Go BIG or go home. All in or all out. What the heck?

p.s.—Several years ago, TLC, Summer, Nelly and I were at Razzoo’s in downtown Fort Worth one Friday night before attending a performance of Four Day Weekend—a hugely funny improv comedy show (see my upcoming Yeehaw). We decided to order a pre-dinner beverage. TLC and Nelly got a couple of pretty/girly/rummy/slushy/vodka-y drinks. Summer and I decided we’d like wine. I asked the very cute young waitperson if they had a Pinot Grigio. She thought for a few seconds and then sweetly (no sarcasm here at all—I swear) said: “I’m not sure. We have pink, white and red. I think pink is the best.” For some odd, random reason, The RED House has made me remember this story. I have no idea why. Maybe because when we all got tickled, she wasn’t embarassed. She laughed with us! We admired her refreshing honesty, infectious energy and fun spirit. She had supreme chutzpah.

Hey, let’s all go paint something! Or have a glass of pink wine.

Cheers and ttfn!!!