| House maintenance hardly ranks up there with the enjoyment of a new home unless that home is a new high priced model wherein one can afford to call whoever is necessary to fix or paint or update. Not so with the majority of us who must resort to our own resources, shovel-ready home maintenance. Much of our basement is adorned with painting materials: buckets, brushes, a gazillion cans of paint and stain and sanding materials and so on. The finish line is glorious, the finishing not so sublime. |
| About a year ago I decided I would like to have the master bedroom painted a new color, something cheerful and uplifting, but not bold and bright. My husband and I bought our lovely cape home in 2003, our very first home. In the interest of time and the idea that one neutral color would make things seem larger we selected a putty color called nostalgically “Sawyer’s Fence.” I have been content with this color scheme especially since I have a lot of wall pieces that show off with a neutral background. But I’ve become restless now with this monotone. First we painted the small downstairs bath a lovely ocean blue and I accessorized with seashells and glass and white trim with flowing sheers. It does feel like the ocean, airy, breezy in summer, gentle on the eyes. |
| The next room on my list was the downstairs bedroom. It’s not large, but I spend a lot of time there day and night. I am disabled and homebound and I refer to the room as my “office.” Anyway I have learned not to broach the subject of a major home project to my loving spouse during the work week. Were I to do so, I would get no response or even a negative one. The time to do it, I reasoned, was on a weekend after he had had a chance to relax a little. So one Sunday last winter I said “Let’s paint the bedroom.” Actually I meant “How about you paint the bedroom. I use the divine We to thwart the fact that I can no longer plunge into one of these projects. He was reading the Sunday paper and I got a friendly “Yes, dear” response. “Yes dear” is manspeak for “I don’t care,” or even “Not now, dear.” Or worse, “You’ve got to be kidding!” Not to be deterred, I proceeded to collect paint swatches when we next went to the mega-hardware store. These samples were big ones, and I deliberated them in all kinds of light. I also took note of the names of the colors as if a name carried ethereal meaning. |
| It turns out the swatch I preferred was “Endless Rain,” and then the name took hold of me. Wouldn’t it contribute to my chronic depression? Back to square one. I often showed these color choices to my husband and he continued his non-committal stance. Then, one cold night in winter, I suggested we hire a painter to do the job. It would all be done in one day, I thought. This idea prompted a more interested response. His male ego stood to the occasion and said, “I can do it.” Well, I thought, I used to be able to do it myself. |
| By now, months after the initial proposal, I came to call the project the “Bedroom Restoration.” Husband had pointed out dents in the window sills and cracks in the walls. They would all continue to be a problem. In other words, why bother. The Restoration took on a determined resolve on my part. Presently I have chosen a color called “Summer Dragonfly.” I am ready to make the list of purchases to be made for The Project. Husband tends to take a whatever-I-have approach to things. He especially doesn’t like the taping part of prep work. In fact, he states, prep work is the worst part of it all. |
| I feel like I’m dragging a reluctant, wet dog home. Feet firmly stuck in the dirt, eyes pleading for salvation from the inevitable confinement.. My first color choice evoked a response of “That’s a guy color.” Oh, the plethora of excuses. He is ingenious in his ambivalence. My idea of the moment is to structure the Restoration into four consecutive weekends, one wall per weekend. That gives us four weeks till the leaves fall and the excuse of having to rake leaves comes out. I am dead serious now and The Restoration occupies my every waking moment. Can it really happen? My feet are really digging in now. |
| The wagons are circling. Conversation number 62: Friday will be a good day to prep – the cracks in one wall and the window sill will be fixed. |
| Later |
| The room is done, thanks be to God. It is absolutely beautiful with all the things I love about country style. Paintings have been changed, sheers added to the eyelet curtains. ”Summer Dragonfly” is a gorgeous color that shows a warm blue at night. Husband worked three weekends, about two or three hours at a time. “There” he would say, as if a great painting had been finished. I am so grateful to him for putting up with my continuing prodding and the beauty of the final result. The Great Restoration is done. |