Day One Hundred Forty-two

Peeper–But only in the Interest of Design

I waited until the evening again to head out for a walk.

I just happened to head out at a perfect time–when it was just dark enough for everyone in the neighborhood to turn on their interior lights, but just light enough that they hadn’t yet closed their blinds or curtains.  Even though I didn’t intentionally pick the time, I really liked walking at this time of night, because I like seeing inside houses.

Now, note that I did not say that I like to see the people in their homes; I am not a pervert.  In fact, I’m rather prudish and would rather not see anyone walking around inside their home, especially in any manner of undress.

I do, however, like to see the houses’ interiors.  I like to see the colors on the walls.  I like to see the paintings, portraits, and wall-hangings on the walls.  I like to see chandeliers and light fixtures.  I like to see shelves and bookcases.  In short, I like to see the rooms.

It’s like looking through my favorite magazine, House Beautiful, but I’m walking.  And trying not to be obvious.

For the first time I was able to glimpse inside one home that has especially intrigued me for awhile.  It’s a beautiful home.  My daughter, when she was young, said it looked like Madeline’s house (” …an old house in Paris that was covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines . . . the smallest one was Madeline”), and she was right.  It does look like Ludwig Bemelmans’ drawings, right down to the vines.

And now I got to peek inside.  It was lovely.  I walked really slowly and surreptitiously took it all in.

Good day, good walk!

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