Pencil Marks

As we were building this house, we did a lot of drawing on the walls.  Finding and marking studs, drawing straight level lines, writing measurements to cut trim, marking more studs, writing more numbers . . . you get the drift.  As a kid, I don't remember ever writing on walls, but we sure did in this house.  It still had the feel of a bit of a construction project.  One of my friends came over yesterday and we went around with small sponge brushes and erased pencil marks and scuffs and smudges with paint.  It is amazing the effect this has.  Instead of looking like a guy and his elf had gone pencil happy with a pencil, level and stud-finder it looks like a home.  There are no longer pencil marks telling us how high to hang the already in place stair railing.  No marks on the walls under existing towel hooks or cabinets.  It is so nice.  My walls look so clean.  So neat.  So nice!  It has been kind of funny and I have laughed at myself as I have been dragging my feet at hanging pictures on my beautiful walls.  I think I worked so hard to make them look so good that I truly am having a hard time figuring out where to hang them.  And I don't want to mess up my walls!  So I finally just put all my pictures in my guest room closet and will sort and decide from there where and if I want the pictures up.  I guess part of it too is that where pictures go up matters in this house more than it has in others.  This is not a rental.  It is not - I hope - a short term house.  I plan to be here for a long time.  And it matters.  The other thing is that some of my pictures are from my Dads office and house, kind of weird to hang them in mine.  Others are some my Grandma painted and now I have them to enjoy, but also weird for the same reason.  I know it sounds funny, but processing pictures is also worth a thousand words.  Some thoughts and sometimes tears.  But good ones.  It is just part of the process of  sorting through life.