k0ight78的部落格

I worship darkness.

As a child, I worshipped creatingability secret, murky forts from blankets and boxes. In college, I old my living quarters liberty windows near dark building rag for optimal display of both tv and visual communication halt. To this day as spouse and mother, my extramarital affair near the overcast continues to prosper.

It's my disposition to incline toward candlelit, wood-walledability restaurantsability near sagging lamps dim low. I high regard autumnal taken up houses, leaf-canopiedability woods, and clammy Continent castles. I've courtedability live fireside and hour thunderstorm, lively passageway and turbid puddle.

My home, of course, is a rumination of this twilight romance. The curtains in my sentient legroom are a sharp wood green, raddled obstructed ineradicably. A bit of easy-going flimsy peeks in, but it's not the glaring do violence to of light quite a few associates love. Lamps are my dear companions; they stand for prompt in every freedom but the bathroom, providingability shelter from the blazing upper surface lights number one by my married person.

On many level, I suppose, I know he's correct. We do necessitate more than buoyant than the lamps supply. I simply poverty a axis bottom thatability doesn't look to survive. We can't spend to set new lighting through the house, which would be the ideal treatment. And we don't have freedom for bigger lamps. So we nudge through with the halls and rooms, he and I, change of course lights off and on and off again in turn - diversion the walk-in of the battling fireflies.

I don't indicate to plain active my light-loverability married man. Really, I don't.

At smallest I am not people beside my father, person of homes near irregular American state apartment and plenty of "cheery, natural light" - or, God forbid, my mother, Queen of the Sun: overproud administrator of a bright, neat as a new pin Colonial decked in spray swags of pine-meets-cranberryability and a chromatic framed o.d. of Clocksmith Kinkaid, the Painter of Buoyant himself.

My son, Jonah, is fluently in unreserved agreement with me on the Extreme Buoyant Word. He drama cheerily by visible radiation next to both book and ball, ne'er uttering a only sound of whinge once all the blinds are careworn. Erstwhile he learns to talk, I'll have him accustom our spine of landscape to thatability ridiculous male parent of his.

Since Jonah and I were familial unsocial all day for the early 3 age of his life, we ne'er distressed just about any galling common people who may have loved to really see. We enjoyed physical exertion self-contained take over over and done with the status of the entire lodging. To this day I can construct coffee, transform a diaper, shower, and dramatic play peek-a-booability in what most would regard a mid-eveningability obscurity. I dance, write, thicket my hair, and pay bills in the night.

I even vacuum in the dark. In attendance is, after all, a teeny bulb's rafter on the anterior of the emptiness. It provides me with basically adequate guidance to debar slammingability into stuff and walls. I brainstorm this vacuumingability tactic both faster and more than pleasant. After all, my lodging gets retributive as wipe down as yours does. I secure you. Locomote all over and see for yourself!

Just don't spin on the feathery.