On fancy days, we call this room, just off the foyer, the parlor. On regular days, I use the moniker, front room. Phill dislikes that name. He sticks to parlor. Who knew he possessed such snootiness?
The drapes, left by the prior owner, are time-ravaged silk. One day I will need to replace these. According to my mother, I need a taller Christmas tree. Next year.