Thursday, June 26, 2008

It's Not About the Paint

When I decide in my mind to do something, I go for it. I don't always have a plan of attack or even think it through entirely before I start. But I do it. And I do my best. And I see it to completion.

Example: Last week, I decided to start my own blog. I looked at one blog before I started my own. It was: garner4.blogspot.com (a friend of my sister's). I liked it. I thought, "If she can do, so can I." And I did. It was fun. Not the blogging. But doing something on my own that I decided I would do. And that I could be proud of doing. I didn't ask for anyone's help. I just did it.

So, my husband has been on a trip this week and I decided to paint the interior of our house. We moved into this 1959 brick ranch about a year and a half ago. It was move-in ready and even the walls seemed a nice blank slate in a warm vanilla color as we walked through. But, after the previous owners took down things from the walls, we realized they had left a lot of nail holes and foam adhesive tape on the walls. We tried to peel and scrape the tape off, and we puttied over the holes. But we never did re-paint. We never put our own things on the walls. We just left it puttied and sanded. And I guess I had gotten used to it. After a year or so I was able to walk by without even noticing.

I wanted to do something productive this week while my husband was away. I thought...and I decided to paint. Once I thought of it, it was my goal. I didn't question it once. I dug around the basement and garage for our painting supplies. And I headed to the store for paint. The first day I re-painted the hallway. It was the worst putty-patched space. I was pleased with my work. I taped off the ceiling and baseboards well. It only took one coat. And I could see how much better it looked...even though it was barely a subtle difference in color.

I took the second day off from painting...the fatty part of the palm of my hand was sore from holding the paint roller. But I was back at work in the dining room on the third day. I wasn't going to go as subtle this time. I wanted my husband to notice that I painted. I went to the store again. I asked the man behind the counter to mix the grassy green color on the swatch I found just minutes before. He added the color to a gallon of paint and put it in the mixer. It looked overly full...no room in the can for air. Several minutes later, he took the lid off and it looked unmixed. He repeated the attempt two more times, but it never mixed. He started again with a new gallon of paint. And this time when he took off the lid I saw a shade of green that was nice, but not at all what I had wanted. I wanted the green I had chosen. The green on the color swatch. So, I left without paint.

Like I said earlier, I don't always think these plans through. I still wanted to paint. But, now paintless, I headed for home. After passing the entrance to the local ACE Hardware, I decided to pull in, so I turned into the exit. I found the ACE color that matched my green...called Springfield. It mixed nicely. And I was happy. I went home. Taped off the dining room walls. And painted.

Then, today I finished my painting adventure. I continued the green to the kitchen.

I love it. And not just the paint. Have you ever just felt good about doing something yourself? Maybe what I liked the best was that I conceived the idea and executed it to completion on my own without asking anyone for help or opinions.

I hope my husband likes it! Or at least can live with it.

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