Monday, April 2, 2012

Sleeping in Green

I am waiting for the cabinet maker to arrive as a write. I spied him delivering new kitchen cabinets for a neighbor upstairs this past summer, got his card and called him up a few weeks ago. Presto, chango, he is delivering a new sink cabinet to our tiny alcove kitchen today, the one that is to have a heavy cast iron Kohler sink. I dragged up up from the basement storage unit last night. God. It weighs a ton. Mr. Cabinet Man will undermount its blackness and then we will await the arrival of the Plumber.

Meanwhile, I talked things over with Mr. Husband and we both like idea of green in the bedroom. It's calm, peaceful and rather restful. It will also carry the green of living room into the rest of the apartment (with only 650 square feet there is only so much 'rest'), not that this is the most important thing. But the place being only so large, it will gather things together quite nicely (perhaps this post should have been titled 'Green House').

The inspiration for this green? A bedroom in Houghton Hall and the green velvet valance I blogged about here. I'll make a gilded half tester for it to hang from and pair it with green wool curtains. The head board will be green as well, but the space above it will be mirrored so as to create a sense of space in our shoebox of a bedroom. Yes, solid green curtains hanging from the Chinoiserie pelmets on the windows, but not of the same fabric or color. Too hotel-ish that. Alas- there is not enough room for a lovely green settee. The one below was in Houghton Hall's bedroom and now resides at the V & A in London. 

It's won't be all English though. I'm thinking of Jacque Grange's leopard print carpet for Yves Saint Laurent. 

Speaking of fangs, I had to bare mine for a moment. Mr. Cabinet Man just called and wanted to come tomorrow instead of today. Hello! I say. I cleared my schedule for you and am not taking another day off for this to happen. You need to get here. Suddenly changing his tune, he says he can make it but will need to be three hours late. No later than two, I say. Of course, it may be three or four. But then, I knew that when I got up this morning. That's how these things go. Mr. Plumber is more on the ball when I call him to reconfigure things. So far, his last name isn't Godot. 

Is it time for lunch yet? 

Last photo from Jacque Grange Interiors, Flammarion. 

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