Is there a perfect beige?

      "I can't believe I'm a snowbird!!"  I declared, the truth hitting me for the first time as Admiral and I headed north on I-95 in mid-April headed home from Florida. For years I've laughed at snow birds clogging the major corridor through Richmond, southbound in winter, northbound in spring.  It was grand to be one.
      Honeymoon # 3 was a memory. Taking seriously and excitedly Admiral's request to make his house our home, selecting colors was the first place to start and the biggest roadblock.  Beige, accented with maroon, was all over his house. And they are so not my colors.
      As I pondered what to do, the perfect person, a colorist, showed up. That's right, a colorist - for homes and businesses, no less.  Never hearing of a colorist, I was intrigued. The more I talked to her about her work, I knew she was the professional to help 'color up' Admiral's oh-so-safe-and-monotone house.  Skillfully she found the perfect colors for the main rooms and the best painter to make it happen. 
     Admiral expressed his skepticism with "This looks mighty bright." "Is that the color I picked?"  "Is this really going to work?" 
      Meanwhile my condo was getting the reverse treatment.  I agonized about the best beige (sounds dumb, doesn't it!)  to cover my cheery hot pink,  yellow and green walls.   Friends - don't stew over the perfect beige as there is no such color.
      Of course, before the first brush touched anything, cleaning out and moving my stuff was all consuming.  "Who put all this stuff in here? Where did it come from? What was I thinking? Will I need this again? This place isn't big enough to hold all this stuff.  Honeymoon to Nantucket can't come soon enough." were some thoughts. Days were filled with numerous trips to the trash can and Salvation Army for junque and Admiral's house for my treasures.  Basic furniture would stay in my condo as it was going to be rented furnished so I didn't have to store excess furniture. 
      Neighbors popped in saying "You're really going to do this, aren't you!  You've been here a long time.  Can't believe you were dating and I didn't know it. When can we meet this guy?" They quickly scattered at requests to help lift boxes.  
      For nineteen years my condo had been my haven, my safe place where I recovered from divorce. Now it was a launching pad to a new life.  I was ready and excited for life's grand adventure with Admiral.  And this refuge I call Sugar House, where life is sweet, was getting ready for a new life, too.