Extraordinary in the Ordinary

I recently found Young House Love, a blog about a husband and wife who a) love each other b) like to fix up their home, and c) like to blog about it.

Both of them.

I saw a picture of her husband working on a door, and he even smiled for the picture.  Smiling, I tell you.  I am not making this up.  See for yourself. I bookmarked that.  I am showing my husband.  I can hear him now, ” Yeah, well, he’s a lot younger than me. I probably smiled at his age, too.”  Blah, blah, blah.

I found myself wishing that I had a husband who loved to  make our home beautiful with me.  In my mind, that would be so beautiful.  We would hold hands, skip along, laugh and choose beautiful decor for our home.  We would always agree, and he would just love to repaint every time I changed my mind.  It’s a magical place in my mind. But then I thought, “Wait.  Then he is going to want input.”  I am just not sure that I can live with that. No, strike that.  I know I couldn’t live with that.

I am so territorial with this decorating thing.    Him having input on the interior would be the equivalent to me going into his shed and telling him where to put things and what color to paint it.  Crazy, isn’t it? Decorating.  It’s a woman’s domain, right?  Now, keep in mind that I am married to a blue collar guy who would probably not care if there was paint on the wall at all, and if he did, he would never, ever see the need to repaint it. See, you are starting to come over to my side now, aren’t you?

That being said, the paint color choice I made two years ago was a mistake. After forty something years, I now finally know what I want.  Ok, I’ve said that before.  Ok.  I said that two years ago when we painted.  But I REALLY know now.

I wish I would have known all of this two years ago.  I was CONVINCED that I wanted warm colors EVERYWHERE.  I just HAD to have them.  Now, I look at the before and after example on the Young House Love blog and can see plainly why I cannot live with this wall color. Warm colors hurt my eyes.  It’s like looking through a hazey filter. It’s not that noticeable in a beautiful room in a magazine or in someone else’s home for a short visit, but it is unbearable for me to live with it every day, all day long.  Now will someone please tell this to my husband for me?  Explain it so he understands it is some color condition that affects the well-being of one’s sanity and could be detrimental to their health if it is not corrected and how wonderful he will feel that he made me so happy by helping me repaint.  It’s not like I am asking for a kidney. It is just paint.  No need for everyone around here to start throwing around the word mutiny.

I really regret this color choice.  It took me no less than four years to choose it, and I have had it for less than two years, and I don’t like it anymore.  Now, mind you, it took me fifteen years to get tired of the white walls.  Now, I think all I needed to do was redecorate, not repaint.

Any color choice, for me, is a mistake.  But, see, I know this about myself now.  Someone on another blog said it best, “I like color in OTHER people’s homes.”  Like her,  I have commitment issues, plain and simple.  I always have.  I’m indecisive, too. If you don’t believe me, ask me where I want to go eat. I’ll prove it.

So, we’ve established that color is not my friend.  Well, at least not lots of it. There is a reason that I am primarily a black and white photographer.  I have always loved black and white. I remember when my first husband and I were married we were using my old 13 inch black and white television.  People would ask me how I could watch that and didn’t I want to see shows in color.  I was honestly confused.  Black and white and varying shades of gray ARE colors.  I saw color no matter what anyone else saw.  I had never even thought about black and white not being color. Anything more than that just takes away from anything.

Except for the bathroom.

I have chosen Ralph Lauren Gold Parlor Metallic paint for the bathroom, which really does not look like this online paint chip of theirs.  It’s a much warmer color.   Remember, the master bathroom is where I have Friday night baths to escape it all.  Of course, if I paint it a color, I may be wanting to escape the bathroom.  But I feel sure about this one. I think.  But see, I was looking on The Pioneer Woman’s Blog after I found this color and saw she had a bathroom really close to this color.  I know that must be a sign.  Right?

Oh, if only some sane person would talk me into white. But don’t look at her bathroom if you have any plans to talk me out of it. Do not look at the picture of the 2nd bathroom. It looks like a mixture of the shower tile color and the wall color in the shade. Gorgeous, isn’t it?

Speaking of white, for the rest of the house, I have decided I want whitish walls with light colored furniture, or dark furniture.  Either would probably work.  Ideally, I would like furniture with well-fitted covers that I could change when felt like it.  But I do know I want whitish walls and hardwood floors.  I want to accent with some dark wood and black and throw in some warm colors like orange and brown for accents. My thinking that is if I basically have a blank slate of white, that I am not committed to anything except white, dark wood, and a little black.  If I want to change colors, it would be easy enough to change out the accents. I originally thought that with this color now, but the slate was just not blank enough.

Now, if only there were not 583, 498, 219 shades of white.  Trust me.  The wall will NEED to be painted by the time I choose one. That is a good thing because, honestly, my husband refuses to help me paint it again.  He said it doesn’t neeeeeed it. Fine.  This isn’t over yet.  Why do I see flashbacks of some crazy I love Lucy episode in my head?

Ok.  Honestly, if my husband had decorated our home 20 years ago, that is probably what he would have chosen.  But I think the journey was important for me.

At least that is what I am telling him.  Well, actually, I am not telling him anything.  I’m not going to ask how he would have decorated our home 20 years ago.  Some things are just better left alone.

~T