Our farmhouse was built shortly after 1800, it is a beautifully simple and well-constructed house, an engineer told us the foundation had not shifted one inch in more than 200 years.

The farmers were practical, they were not interested in color. The walls were either white or faded wallpaper. Formal, in a way. The inside of our house was drab and colorless, and we set about figuring out how to bring some color to it.

Maria, the artist, kept coming up with ideas I would never have thought of, and we started stripping and scraping. Room by room, the interior is coming to life. We re-did the bathroom in Mexico – Frida Kahlo – colors. And Maria just re-painted the kitchen and doors and trim in New Mexico colors (we were there a few weeks ago.

We’ve not only painted the walls, but re-tiled the kitchen and bathroom floors. Maria can see it all in her head, I am slow to grasp it.

It seems we are drawn to Latin colors, bright and warm. These colors are transforming the downstairs (we did the living room two years ago) and the dining room is probably next.

We go to the hardware store, look at colors, and then one day Maria lights up, obsesses, gets out her brushes and goes to town. I help out where I can, but I’ve learned she would mostly prefer that I get out of the way. So I do.

It is quite amazing how she has transformed the interior of the downstairs. There is a lot of work still to do in the farmhouse, but I was struck by the brightness and warmth I saw this morning. I married wisely and well.