And so crumpled mornings eventually spiral into stray afternoons. I find myself deep into my latest project, seduced by the temptation to think the worst of people lately, I start to scrub the surface layered with almost fifty years of grunge.

What I imagined seizing a few minutes of my afternoon before meal prep, turns into hours, days. There is lots to feel hopeful about, lots to feel angry about. Spray, then downward strokes with a scrub, I wipe away white-knuckled tales of suspense. What’s needed is more work. I’ll sort the rest out tomorrow.

I whisk past the cracked-opened window, I should open another. In between the toils of the day, I cope with nefarious ways behind the scenes as I tackle this abandoned piece sitting in the basement most likely since the radiologist resided here. According to a neighbor, he shared the nest with a primate and all he saw of the Doc was when he zipped down the street in a pick-up truck lugging random artifacts. I came across some perplexing heavy objects in the drawers and more lab relics and metric beakers in his lab space. Decades of neglect, out of sight across from the furnace, but my eyes fixed on its solid structure—I saw something about it.And so this forsaken furnishing with a little attention, care and imagination transformed from trash to treasure. Layers of paint and more layers of grime; no doubt it’s chock full of hazardous lead paint. Do I encapsulate with a special primer or assign this perilous task to a specialist? I opt to crack open a few windows and do not attempt to strip the high glossed paint but instead paint over lightly as to not disturb any particles. With feather like strokes and a rag I managed to highlight the grain lines with a darker color to contrast the insipid hue previously chosen.

My penchant for order tempts me to use the drawers to organize craft supplies, however I think it the wiser to leave the warped drawers vacant forever. If tempted by curious tiny digits to open, at least the original wood inside the drawers were left unpainted. I convince myself that the friction caused by the pulling and pushing wouldn’t activate lead-tainted bits floating in the air because of the superficial coating. And after a few days, a drowsy surrender to the stillness of the night…we are at our best again. Do you agree? Cheers to tiny transformations.