🎨 Deciding to Paint the Sunroom 🍋 | Cozy Sleep Story for Adults

0:02 Welcome to the. Slow Life. I'm Jennifer Vino and I. Create, narrate and. Design the soundscape. Of this village of cozy stories to. Relax and unwind. Each week. I share an original. Story read 2 times so. You can relax. Even more during. The second reading. I also create. Micro experiences inspired by the stories you hear. These are short. Gentle reading moments designed. To help you. Slow down and rest in the village for as long as you like.

0:47 They're available now to enjoy on screen or on paper, individually or in small bundles. Through the slow life dot. CA under. The shop tab. Let's settle in with some easy breathing. At your own. Pace. With each inhale, let. Fresh air fill the space. Around your heart. With each exhale, feel the calm air spread through your body and flow out through your. Arms and legs gently in.

1:28 Through your heart. Gently out through your body, in through your heart, out through your body. And now let's begin. This story is called. Deciding to paint the sunroom and it's about choosing a. Colour for the walls. Moving freely through the aisles and being. Satisfied with what's? To come. The light comes in to the sunroom gently this morning, not.

2:14 Too bright. But enough. To reach the coroners, it spills. Between the rungs of the rocking chair and. Through the glass top table beside it. I look around the. Way I usually. Do noticing what's. Here. Today I notice a little more The windows need a light cleaning. There's a faint gathering of dust along the edge of the sills. The rug is. Slightly off centre. Pushed that way. By feet passing through and kittens playing tag, then my eyes. Drift to the walls.

3:01 They've been this. Colour for as. Long as I can remember a kind of brown that leans warm in the evening but can feel dull in the morning light. It doesn't reflect much. The sunlight touches it and seems to stop. I see a. Scuff. Near the baseboard. A faint mark from when I moved the chair a few months ago. There are more as I turn my head Marks I've simply stopped seeing until now, several signs of use. Pop up. Nothing major, but enough to change how I.

3:44 Feel about the. Room. When I pay attention, I take a sip of my tea and keep looking. I think about how much time I spend here, especially in the mornings. I said I. Read. I watched. The birds, It feels like a space that should hold. More light than it does now, I start to imagine the room in a different colour, something softer, something that doesn't absorb the morning. But reflects it back. To me, yellow comes to mind without much effort.

4:30 Not. A bright, sharp. Yellow put an uplifting shade. That feels like. Sunlight. Already. Settled into the walls themselves. I picture what it would do. To the room making the corners. Feel less heavy? The windows more open than they already are. I look again at the walls, trying to see them that way. At this point, I know myself well enough to know. The idea will. Stay. I set my cup down and stand, walking slowly around the room. There isn't much here that needs to be moved. None of the furniture is.

5:18 Heavy. The small table can. Be carried easily. A narrow shelf along the far. Wall holds a few. Plants and a. Stack of folded. Blankets. I ran my hand lightly along the wall near the window. The surface. Is smooth. But the colour? Feels flat under my fingers. As though it's ready. For something to change, I finish my tea and rinse the cup in the kitchen. As I predicted, the thought stays. With me as I move. Through the house. Opening a window, straightening a cushion on the.

6:02 Chesterfield. By midmorning, I give myself permission to stop pretending and admit to myself. That I've already. Decided to paint I take some. Pictures. Of the sunroom to have with me in case I want another opinion. With a smile, I gather my things and head to. The hardware store. The drive is familiar and I think about the last time I bought paint. For a project, it was for the. Garden shed in the backyard. It was a.

6:42 Deeper weathered blue. Than and I remember how different it. Felt after I covered. It in a clean cyan. That stayed bright. Even on overcast days. This store is quiet. Enough that I move. Freely through. The aisles. I head toward. The paint section where? Rows of colour. Swatches line the walls in neat, even columns. I stand here for a moment, taking it in. There are more shades than I. Expect yellows that lean.

7:23 Toward cream, others almost golden. Some are soft and pale. Barely there while others are stronger. Holding more colour than I want. For this project I reach for a. Few and gather them in my hand. Buttercream mist. Soft lemon glow. Morning honey. I hold them up one at a time, trying to picture them in the sunroom. I think about. The way the. Light. Moves across the. Walls in the morning. How it rests.

8:05 There in the afternoon. I want something that will. Hold that light. Without becoming too bright, I move along the display, adding a few more to my collection. Pale Marigold, golden haze, sun kissed linen. I take them to a nearby. Space. Where I can stand aside, I look at them again, shifting them in my hand, placing one in front. Of the other. Some feel too strong now that I see them together.

8:49 Others almost disappear. Too much. I narrow it down more quickly than I expect. Soft lemon glow stays. Sun kissed linen stays. Buttercream mist stays. I hold these. Three and let. The others go. Sliding them back. Into their places. There's a small sample board nearby a plain. Surface where I can place the swatches. And see them. More clearly together. I lay them down. Side by side.

9:30 The difference between them is subtle. But it's there. Soft lemon glow has a gentle warmth to it. Like the first. Light of the day, Sun kissed linen feels more neutral, a quiet balance between yellow and something softer. Buttercream Mist. Is the lightest. Almost like it could disappear into the room. If the light. Is strong enough to. Wash it out. I think about the sun room again. The chairs. The small table, the floor. The rug.

10:14 I think about how I want it to feel when I sit there in the morning. Not bright, not dull, just light enough. I pick. Up soft lemon glow and hold it alone. This is the. 1 I keep it in my hand and walk toward the counter where the paint can be mixed. The process. Is simple, I choose a finish. That will hold. Up but not shine. Too harshly, I watched as the. Colour is measured and blended, the machine humming.

10:57 Quietly, as it does its work. When I arrive home, I carry the paint in and set it just inside the sunroom door. Satisfied with what? Sto. Come deciding to paint the sunroom. The light comes in to the sunroom gently this morning, not. Too bright. But enough. To reach the. Coroners. It spills. Between the rungs of the rocking chair and.

11:38 Through the glass top table beside it. I look around the. Way I usually. Do noticing what's. Here. Today I notice a little more. The windows need a light cleaning. There's a faint gathering of dust along the edge of the. Sills the rug is. Slightly off centre. Pushed that way. By feet passing through and kittens playing tag, then my eyes. Drift to the walls. They've been this. Colour for as. Long as I can remember a kind of brown that leans warm in the evening but can feel dull in the morning light.

12:28 It doesn't reflect much. The sunlight touches it and seems to stop. I see a. Scuff. Near the baseboard. A faint mark from when I moved the chair a few months ago. There are more as I turn my head Marks I've simply stopped seeing until now, several signs of use. Pop up. Nothing major, but enough to change how I. Feel about the. Room when I pay attention. I take. A sip of my tea and keep looking. I think about how much time I spend here, especially in the mornings.

13:15 I said I. Read. I watched. The birds. It feels like a space that should hold more light. Than it does now. I start to imagine the room in a different colour, something softer, something that doesn't absorb the morning. But reflects it back. To me, yellow comes to mind without much. Effort. Not. A bright, sharp. Yellow, but an uplifting shade. That feels like. Sunlight. Already. Settled into the walls themselves. I picture what it would do to the room. Making the corners.

14:01 Feel less heavy? The windows more open than they already are. I look again at the walls, trying to see them that way. At this point, I know myself well enough to know. The idea will. Stay. I set my cup down and stand, walking slowly around the room. There isn't much here that needs to be moved. None of the furniture is. Heavy. The small table can. Be carried easily. A narrow shelf along the far. Wall holds a few. Plants and a.

14:43 Stack of folded. Blankets. I ran my hand lightly along the wall near the window. The surface. Is smooth. But the colour? Feels flat under my fingers. As though it's ready. For something to change, I finish my tea and rinse the cup in the kitchen. As I predicted, the thought stays. With me as I move. Through the house. Opening a window, straightening a cushion on the. Chesterfield. By midmorning, I give myself permission to stop pretending and admit to myself.

15:26 That I've already. Decided to paint I take some. Pictures. Of the sunroom to have with me in case I want another opinion. With a smile, I gather my things and head. To the hardware store. The drive is familiar and I think about the last time I bought paint. For a project, it was for the. Garden shed in the backyard it was. A deeper weathered. Blue than and I remember how different it. Felt after I covered. It in a clean cyan. That stayed bright.

16:07 Even on overcast days. This store is quiet. Enough that I move. Freely through. The aisles. I head toward. The paint section. Where rows of colour swatches. Line the walls in neat, even columns. I stand here for a moment, taking it in. There are more shades than I. Expect yellows that lean. Toward cream, others almost golden. Some are soft and pale. Barely there while others are stronger. Holding more colour than I want.

16:51 For this project I reach for a. Few and gather them in my hand. Buttercream mist. Soft lemon glow. Morning honey. I hold them up one at a time, trying to picture them in the sunroom. I think about. The way the. Light. Moves across the. Walls in the morning. How it rests. There in the afternoon. I want something that will. Hold that light. Without becoming too bright, I move along the display, adding a few more to my collection.

17:37 Pale Marigold, golden haze, sun kissed linen. I take them to a nearby. Space. Where I can stand aside, I look at them again, shifting them in my hand, placing one in front. Of the other. Some feel too strong now that I see them together. Others almost disappear. Too much. I narrow it down more quickly than I expect. Soft lemon glow stays. Sun kissed linen stays.

18:18 Buttercream mist stays. I hold these. Three and let. The others go. Sliding them back. Into their places. There's a small sample board nearby a plain. Surface where I can place the swatches. And see them. More clearly together. I lay them down. Side by side. The difference between them is subtle. But it's there. Soft lemon glow has a gentle warmth to it. Like the first. Light of the day. Sun kissed linen feels more neutral, a quiet balance between yellow and something softer.

19:08 Buttercream mist is the lightest. Almost. Like it? Could disappear into the room. If the light. Is strong enough to. Wash it out. I think about the sun room again. The chairs. The small table, the floor. The rug. I think about how I want it to feel when I sit there in the morning. Not bright, not dull, just light enough. I pick. Up soft lemon glow and hold it alone. This is. The one I keep it in my hand and.

19:51 Walk toward. The counter where the paint can be mixed. The process. Is simple, I choose a finish. That will hold. Up, but not shine too harshly. I watched as the colour. Is measured and blended, the machine humming. Quietly, as it does its work. When I arrive home, I carry the paint in and set it just inside the sunroom door. Satisfied with what? Sto. Come. I wish you sweet.

20:31 Dreams.