Agreeing to explore the possibilities

June 2, 2005

Dear Leslie,

Whom the idea occurred to first is a mystery. Maybe DC and I were marveling at how our friend Gail has made her house so homey only a few months after moving in. Homey wouldn't be an adjective people use to describe our house. Physicists experimenting with chaos theory could search the randomness of our rooms in vain for an underlying order.

Or maybe the idea sprang from our appreciation for our friend Charlie's talent for home design.

Certainly the major motivation for DC was the impending arrival of her sister for a visit from California. The sister who hasn't gained a pound since high school.

In his book "Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking," Malcolm Gladwell says spontaneity is a matter of agreeing to explore possibilities. Somehow, DC and I agreed to have Charlie and Gail make over our house while we spent the weekend at the cabin on the Castor River.

I loved this idea. My fantasy house would be furnished only with necessities: A couch, a refrigerator, a TV, a stereo, books, a bed and something to make music with, some art on the walls.

The reality is our house is under siege by knickknacks, fragile ceramic animals that charm DC so much that every week more seem to appear. Room has to be made for them. Like nature abhors a vacuum, DC abhors empty space.

Everybody cleaned industriously Memorial Day weekend at the cabin. The California sister will be visiting the cabin, where she spent many of her childhood summers.

DC and I rushed home Monday to see what had happened to our house in our absence. Between Saturday morning and our return, the house had been transformed, was suddenly airier, its charms rediscovered. Walking through I couldn't wait to see what was around the next corner. It felt like Christmas.

The dining room and the den had switched places. New chairs were in the living room. A round kitchen table once exiled to the basement had replaced a rectangular one. The wooden entertainment center, minus the TV and stereo, was in the kitchen and now a repository for foodstuffs and mixing bowls.

The den is now my favorite place. Artfully crowded into the small room are a comfortable couch and chaise, the TV and stereo, musical instruments, the ancient tapestry DC found in Chinatown, a beloved painting of a Navajo woman. It's as if most of my favorite things were invited to a party. Here was an underlying order.

These are only my impressions. DC walked into each room warily. So did the dogs. She sat down. She walked to another chair and sat down. Three days later she hasn't moved anything substantial.

Funny, though, the changes that affected me most were small ones. A bottle of Kahlua has emerged from the pantry and now awaits atop the entertainment center in the kitchen, a reminder of domestic pleasures always at hand.

Best of all is a new photograph in the foyer. Gail found the photo in our wedding album and had it enlarged. It's a candid picture of DC and me on our wedding day, smiling, giddily happy.

A reminder that love, too, is an agreement to explore the possibilities.

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is the managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.