The Not-So-Fine Art of Decorating

“It’s is Clown Car Yellow,” I said, half laughing, half groaning. It had been my husbands thought to have the kitchen painted. I took my friends brilliant idea to turn our den into a play room, something I should have thought of a long time ago, and ran with it. We cleaned out the den, the black hole in the house. All manner of junk had been sucked into its vortex, not to be seen again, at least not until we took on the daunting task of clearing the room out. All totaled, the small 10 x 12 room had taken five hours to purge. Clean, I marveled at its size, excited about how much space the boys would have to play and store their toys in. Next order of business was to have it painted. The room was still that chalky base white paint that the builders of our home had put on the walls; the kids would bruise that up in no time. As I made the call to the painter who had been referred to me, my husband called out, let’s just do the kitchen at the same time. Ooh, yes, I thought, what a great idea. Color book in hand, I agonized; I mean I agonized over what colors to choose. This was such a huge responsibility, choosing colors; I was going to pay someone to paint these colors on my walls, what if they were horrible!

Jason and I have never been the kind of couple who must have our whole house and yard or even a given room immediately designed and decorated, frankly because we don’t have the resources. We have bought items here and there that we have like without always a clear thought as to where they would go in our house. Each year we have changed a little bit more; built-in niches last year, carpet this year, a new painting in the hallway and shades we found on sale at JCPenney. Every year our yards get a less brown and a bit greener. We have painted our rooms only a little bit at a time searching for colors that we like always hoping that once on the walls, they would somehow fit into our house. However, because of this, a certain unique character has begun to define the look and feel of our home and it can only be described as, well, us.

When the painter finished a few weeks ago, the den was perfect, but I was humorously appalled at the kitchen and then proceeded to panic over how we could afford to have it repainted. Graciously the painter said he would repaint it if I went and bought the new color, I had only to call him when I was ready. Well the weeks have gone by, crazy as every other young families life is and the kitchen has remained the same color. And now, four weeks later, I have to say, it’s growing on me. I think I’ll keep it …. maybe it fits us.