Master Bedroom

About four and a half years ago I was browsing in a frame store at the big mall and came across a teeny-tiny print of Andrew Wyeth's painting Master Bedroom. I instantly fell in love with it. It's the most serene, warm-fuzzy painting I've ever seen. It's a simple picture of a yellow Lab curled up on the pillows of a bed, a bit of daylight coming through a small window. The dog is the spitting image of my family's dog Boo, who died around that time. She used to hog pillows in exactly the same way; it's not tough to figure out who the master of the bedroom really is. The bedspread reminds me of the ones my grandparents used to cover the beds at their cabin.
Anyway, the print was tiny, unframed, and $60. I wouldn't have bought it even if I could've afforded it. But since that day, I look for Master Bedroom every single time I'm in a store that sells prints. It's become such an unconscious habit that I do it automatically, not really expecting to find it since I've only seen it once, years ago, at an obscure frame shop that closed down about a week after I visited it.
But today, strolling around the Bay with Richard (pricing curtain rods in case our apartment gets drafty this winter), I wandered past the picture area and immediately saw Master Bedroom. Full-size. Beautifully framed. 40% off.
So, we now have Master Bedroom in our master bedroom (well, only bedroom). I dare anyone to look at this picture and not get warm fuzzies! Even the old ladies standing in line at the Bay were muttering amongst themselves, "Look at that...so peaceful!"