A few weeks ago our general contractor basically finished the work on the room we had added to our house (and, yes, Liz your algorithm for assuming one month of real time for each week the contractor estimated was pretty accurate). Now, in the evenings, we retire to the new room, which is pretty nice looking.
When I sit in the new room, I think "Hey, it's nice here!"
When Hank sits in the new room she thinks, "Man, the rest of the house is a dump."
So, for the last several months, Hank has been poring over color charts. Paint is the next great frontier. She stares at online virtual rooms, color wheels, redecorating books, something called a color triad and other people's houses. Mostly she stares right through me, but that's understandable. I'm usually babbling about my jogging pace or maybe boobs.
Hank was tormented by the color choices. I offered to step in and assist a while back.
Hank: Really? You want to help?
Hank: What color palette were you thinking about?
Hank: (exasperated) We can't pick white.
Me: Duh! I know we can't pick white. I just like the white palette. How about antique white or eggshell white?
You'd think I'd suggested that we paint the house with the blood of our daughter. White is apparently the most absurd color you'd ever want to paint a hallway. It would be so... crap, I can't even finish that sentence. I have no idea what's wrong with white. Before we moved into this house, every single place I ever lived (with the exception of Barrington Hall) had white walls. They didn't clash with furniture or art or cause people to spend man-months staring at color triads.
Anyway, Hank found a painter she liked who had some availability this week, so that forced her to pick a color palette. Today the painting began. What colors did she pick? They are:
Peruvian Evening Lily
I know! I KNOW! Those aren't even colors! I mean, at least "Midsummer Gold" has a color in the title, but the other two are as likely to be yoga stretches as wall colors.
The midsummer gold went up on the walls today. It's kind of brownish gold. I haven't seen the Butterfly Wing yet, but I've been informed it's kind of yellow. And the Peruvian Evening Lily? Red, obviously.
I'm beginning to fear that this process of "fixing" the design of our house is a process that will never end. On the plus side, however, as long as Hank is distracted with replacing colors, she won't have time to think about replacing her husband. I am pretty white, I'm told.