The House With The Yellow Back Door.

It's a little thing really, on the scale of everything we've accomplished on the exterior of our home this year. It's just 2 coats of paint. It took less time than a sunny afternoon gives you to work with. You can do it with an 18 month old at your feet (or on your back, or given snacks at the table in sight of a working Momma). You can even chat while you do it. You can sing a song, or whistle or think while you do it. All it takes is a steady hand and a few inexpensive materials.

The color is yellow. It's a feels like an old Yankee color to me. Bright in the sunlight, but gentle in the shade. Friendly, warm and safe. It feels like home. It feels like our home. There is personality in the color... cheerful, historic and somehow modern. There's a bit of orange in the bright yellow, but also a subtle tone of grey. It's a mark of character on a white home. It's an individualized touch against cedar shingles.

It's actually quite a monumental thing to paint the entry to our home. It creates a sense of completion, of care and of detail on our house which often feels like a work in progress. This is where we enter our family, where others are welcomed into our sanctuary. This is the safe place in which we raise our child and ourselves. It is where our cats come home to, and where our friends knock when they are looking for us. It is a place which is sacred. So really this small bit of time, of energy and care is really quite large. The two coats of paint feel like a baptism.

We are home.