Clothes make the man.
I am not certain I agree with that. But I do agree that new clothes can make a man feel new.
When I was a dashing young captain, putting on a fresh mess dress uniform made me feel like Beau Geste. Or should that be Beau Brummel? Whatever. It made me feel as if the republic was in good hands.
In my little fishing village by the sea, there is not much call for clothing -- let alone new duds. But I am certain my house feels as if its new coat of paint is as fancy as any upon which I pinned medals.
The house was in dire need of new paint. That is the back patio before the painters arrived.
And after several days of hard work in the hot sun, this is how the new cimarron and Cascade twilight house looks.
Quite snazzy if I say so myself. A little bit of paint and the place looks as if it has new lines.
Gone is the pink house and all its Evita aspirations. In its place is a truly Mexican casa. With all of its attendant wildlife.
More on that later.
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