Painting

I thought the hardest part of this room shuffle would be moving the behemoth of a desk. And, believe me, that wasn't easy. But I've spent the past two days boxing up bookshelves, dusting, washing, prepping, mulling over paint samples all the while taking care of the kids, planning a new year of Catechesis of the Good Shepherd, organizing a Fall Festival, and having a tooth crowned.

This morning I had it together.

Ainsley at pre-school - check.

Blue paint and rollers purchased - check.

Coffee brewing - check.

The Priests belting out Panis Angelicus on the CD player - check.

I dropped some mail off at our community office and told my friend Anna about my big day dedicated to transforming Sage Green walls to Wedgewood Blue. She made an oblique comment about blue being a tricky color. Nah, I counted blithely. I have always been of the mindset that once a can of paint is purchased and in my van, oddities of color, a hue that's a tad off, well, I tend to dismiss those problems with a quick shrug. And if the paint has actually made it onto the walls, I am quick to declare victory.

One in the hand is worth two in the bush and all that, you know.

This approach is not infallible. When painting my kitchen cabinets -- a job that is not for the faint of heart -- I was aiming for fire engine red and ended up with raspberry. No dice. Back to the store I went. Some things I can't live with and raspberry cabinets assuredly made the list.

Many moons ago I painted my bedroom and -- with the help of a decorator no less -- honed in on a shade that had the misfortune of going by the name Yellow Banana. Friends, do not paint your bedroom Yellow Banana. Housing an Orangutan? Opening a day care center? Yellow Banana is just your shade.  I room you plan to live in, sleep in? No, just no. But the tricky part, see, is that you can't fully appreciate how paint will turn out until you finish the second coat. Horrible and inconvenient but so true, so painfully true. I cut in and rolled one coat of Yellow Banana and then was paralyzed. What to do? What to do? The furniture's all pulled out. I'm dodging piles left and right.  I'm harried with keeping the little people out of the bedroom. I wasn't enthusiastic about Yellow Banana, but I was even less enthusiastic about starting over.

So I did nothing.

For a year, I did nothing. Oh, I put the furniture back, let the kids back into the room, but I didn't finish for a year. When I finally put on that second coat of Yellow Banana, the room definitely looked better but, hello!, Yellow Banana!

So The Priests moved on to their glorious Ave Maria, and I was painting, painting, painting and called Anna to report the sad and indisputable truth: The boys' room was purple.

Not Wedgewood Blue as the paint sample claimed. Purple. Bordering on Lavender.

But here's the crazy thing: I kept right on painting. And as the light shifted around the room, purple became blue, a nice blue. I'm sure the music helped. As I moved into the evening, I'm sure the glass of Chardonnay helped. But this morning, even by dawn's harsh early light, I think it's going to be okay.

But then again, the hardest part is over, so my judgment may be seriously compromised.