Thursday, September 01, 2011

Background

For the first time in my marriage, I have lived an entire year without repainting/redecorating a room.

Last Labor Day weekend, I repainted the dining room and ended up with a bulging disc and a month of bedrest and physical therapy.  For some reason, I have not been just hopping to start a new project.

But after three hundred and sixty-somethin days...I think I'm ready.

Our bedroom walls have been tan since I painted them Christmas of 2005.  Well, actually two years ago when we remodeled our master bathroom, I had to "touch them up".  Do you feel afraid by that phraseology?  Understandable.  Philip had knocked out a wall to get the one piece tub installed.  He had repaired the wall with new sheetrock and it was my job to prime & paint it.  I was already a tiny bit tired of tan walls, and hoped to redecorate the bedroom too at that time.

Ok, follow me, here....   We had to pay the plumber WAY more than we budgeted.  So all the "decor" money was gone.  Since I couldn't fund new bedding, I wasn't sure what color the room would ultimately be.   I had to repair some old screw holes with spackle and primer. I primed the big rectangle from the tub passage and then used the leftover cream paint from the bathroom to cover the primer.  I knew a big creme-on-tan rectangle with four odd looking splotches on either side would just look silly.  So, as the primer fumes infiltrated my senses and sensibilities....


I dug in my craft drawer to find an ivy stamp from the 90's.  I dipped it in the cream paint and dabbed a few ivy leaves over the screw holes.  Then as inhalants influenced more of my better judgement, I took a small brush and hand swirved a softer edge to the rectangle.  From there, I swirved out with my brush toward the ivy leaves.  I had a shrubbery of some sort!  A family tree, if you will.  But with all the branches swirling over and around, it also resembled the human heart.  Our very own aorta of looooove.  Get it?  Ivy.  IV.   Groovy!  I used every last drop of paint.  The end.

That night as I lay in bed, I whispered sober & apologetically, "I can't believe I did that to our wall."  My Beloved soothed, "I kinda like it.  I really do."

Every night for weeks, we followed the same script.  And now, a year and a half later, we're going to wash over the "ivy vines on a stump"  with waves of "Beach Cottage" blue. 
 
I'll have to paint my room in two phases since it's just too much trouble to move everything all the way OUT.  Earlier tonight, the boys helped Philip move the bed into the middle of the room.  All the other furniture is shoved against one wall.  I'll paint a horseshoe around the room and then after the fellas help me put all that stuff back, I can do the last wall.  As Luke walked out of our room, he said, "Hey, you could rock the 'hoarders' look and keep everything like this!"  snotty.

Hopefully by Monday, I will have a tranquil place to call my own.  eh, hmm.  ...to call OUR own.  Philip's so easy.  I think I could paint our room purple polka dot and he would say, "looks awesome, babe."  I'm a lucky girl:)