I found my groove in a paint can



After writing yesterday's post I decided that making my house "look like my heart" had to come first.

Cleaning sounded joyless so I found the most compact corner to work on – a half-bath – and decided to give it a makeover. 

It's tiny and there's no furniture. Plus it was beige.

We've never lived in a house this long before without painting.

Since the mid '90's Pete and I have lived in six houses. We painted them all either before we moved in or within a few weeks. Even when we had wee babies or big pregnant bellies. It was always a priority.

This time not so much.

We rented here for six months and agreed not to paint until we purchased the farm. When we finally closed we already had big remodeling dreams (and no remodeling budget) plus animals and new gardens to distract us. Se've been hanging here in limbo for almost three years, quietly waiting for our remodeling budget to materialize. All the while staring at our beige walls.

Because really, why paint a wall you're about to demolish? See what I mean? Exactly.

So yesterday when I started talking about my much needed mama groove reboot I decided that this bathroom was the first project up. Future remodel be damned, I was painting.

With my non-budget in hand I went shopping in our basement and found a charming full gallon of an agreeable yellow that the previous owners had left behind. At some point I realized that it was the color of the kitchen when we moved in – the only room I have repainted since we've been here.

Funny that I didn't love it in the kitchen but it's swoon-worthy in the bath. Fickle.

Lupine and I were home alone so I surrendered myself to doing this project together. (Yes! for fun, whoa! for mess. Breathing through the pain.)

Working together in a joyful fashion meant suspending any need to micromanage or be obsessive about brush strokes and drips. As a bonus she learned a plethora of tricks for wiping up spilled and running paint, including that juicy blob I landed on her nose. Oops.

And so, we painted.








It's a hard color to capture but it's a charmingly buttery yellow. I love it.

Is it perfect? Of course not! (You must be new here. See exhibits A and B for back-story.)

Our walls are wonky but I don't care. There is a half-wall of 1960's vinyl wall board in a fake tile motif. I still don't care. (Some day I may cover it with with wainscoting, but no, not today.) There are drips, bubbles, cracks, and more vinyl in the form of an ugly and unnecessary tub surround.

But the walls are happy yellow and I'm happily finding my groove again. Right there in that paint can.

In the end, dinner was late and nutritionally questionable and the house is still a filthy mess, but I took a tiny corner and made it my own. I am triumphant with this one small corner of order, color, and clean.

Come to think of it, I might just sleep in the tub tonight.


P.S. Total bathroom remodel budget: $0. Winning!


P.P.S. Framed artwork by my talented and thoughtful sister (the Lupine and Sage watercolors) and by the mind-blowing Lucky Nilson whom I adore (the fairy mama and child piece by the window).


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