Why I painted my Laundry Room Yellow

I HAVE NO IDEA.
Joe told me I should write a blog with this title and I told him it would be a short blog.  I literally woke up a few days ago, looked at the white walls in my house (aka every single one of them) and snapped.  I chose the laundry room because it was a small room and could be closed off should things go South.

I went to the hardware store, spent maybe 20 minutes looking at a few color swatches before buying a quart (not even a gallon) of Forsyth Blossom.  “A quart?” you ask.  Yes, a quart.  I asked for a half gallon and when they said they only do gallons or quarts, I felt cheap and decided to see if I could do the whole room for $12.75.  I couldn’t, fyi. But I was close.

I called my mom because yellow paint, you guys, and obviously this type of crisis requires back up for the children. There’s no telling what could go down during a White Wall Crisis.  Warning: Lady with yellow paint on the loose. Hide yo kids, hide yo wife. She gonna be paintin’ everything up in here!
I’m a freak. I know.

Now I have a BRIGHT yellow laundry room and WHITE walls everywhere else.  When Joe got home he looked physically upset. When I asked if it was because he didn’t like it he said, “No, I like it.  It’s just ‘If you give a mouse a cookie’…” His voice trailed off as he tried to avoid eye contact and rightly so.  If you give Catie a yellow laundry room, she will want paint swatches for the rest of your house, and if she gets paint swatches for the rest of your house, she’s gonna want a soft grey family room to go with it.

As it turns out, my laundry room is now my favorite room in the house. This doesn’t bode well for me, functionally speaking, as I still detest laundry. But, at least, I can do something I abhor in a space that I love. A little room that wakes up the happy in me. That’s what yellow does, folks, it wakes up the happy.

I’ve been a little bunting crazy lately, I have to admit. I am definitely on the verge of putting myself on a triangle flag time out. But this room screamed for whimsy and nothing does that better than a sweet little bunt-banner. I mean, come on! I made this one with paper and grey yarn I had in my craft closet. So, cost was $ZERO and it doesn’t get better then that. It’s totes Joe-approved. (If it costs nothing, then this mouse can bunt up the whole house for all he cares.)

I bought the letters on the wall from JoAnn’s Fabrics for about $4 each. (It spells WASH if that isn’t obvious.) They are actually made out of cardboard so they are super light weight. I gave them a dry-brushed top coat of white acrylic paint I had on hand. It made them look like distressed wood, which I love.

All in all, my color anemic spontaneous painting project cost:
2 quarts of Forsyth Blossom (yellow) paint — $25.50 ($12.75 ea)
4 cardboard letters from JoAnn’s Fabrics — $16 (roughly $4 ea)
Bringing the grand total to $41.50

Not bad. Maybe this mouse can get another cookie… 🙂

An Hour on Thursday {Part 2}

It’s exactly 12:30pm.  Welcome to An Hour on Thursday.

I have so many post ideas running around in my head it will be interesting to see how this turns out.

I feel like I am apt to go on a trail-of-thought parade, so bear with me.  (Is it bare or bear?  Because I don’t want to infer that there is a bear with me…)  See what I mean.

One of the things I was thinking about this morning was birthdays on Facebook.  It’s strange, right?  It seems as if collectively we have come up with maybe 4 strategies for dealing with receiving annual birthday messages on Facebook. This is how I see it:

a.) The birthday guy/girl can like ALL of the birthday comments.  This is a fine strategy but leaves me wondering about the old adage “if everything is special, nothing is special.”  Know what I mean?

b.) The birthday guy/girl can like only the comments from people they weren’t expecting a “Happy Bday” from, perhaps a person they forgot they were even friends with on FB.  OR they could like only the particularly funny or heartfelt comments.  This strategy makes me nervous.  Feelings could get hurt.

c.) The birthday guy/girl can comment on all the comments.  This is laborious and time consuming and it is their birthday, man.  Also, “Thank you” can only be said so many different ways.

d.) The birthday guy/girl can wait until later that evening and then post a general “Thank you for all your birthday well wishes today! It’s meant so much!”  This seems the safest option and also serves as a gentle reminder to any non-commenters that “Hey, its still my birthday, comment while you can!”

Phew, I’m glad to have gotten that piece of Pulitzer Prize writing off my chest.  WHAT AM I DOING?      DO I HAVE TO POST THIS?  I have 19 minutes left.  And my phone is somehow in a dead zone where my pictures won’t post to my blog so I can’t even post cute pics of my kids to kill time.

This experiment is failing at this point. I want to just stop and Google things like “How to cross stitch” and “What does Google Glass do?” (There’s a guy in the coffee shop wearing them and its freaking me out.)

……………

Ok. I confess. I just googled the thing about the glasses.  It was really freaking me out. (How cool are those things, btw?!) BUT at least I didn’t get lost in a world of cross stitching lessons, so you’re welcome.

Maybe next week I will post something a little more…well, normal.

In the mean time, here’s a picture I found on the computer of my husband.  Perfect.

Over and out.

An Hour on Thursday {Part 1}

It’s 2:36pm.

I’m sitting at a coffee shop, with a chai latte to my right, computer open, and a blank page below these letters I am typing at this very moment.  I am trying a new experiment.  It’s called an hour on Thursday.  

We’ve been operating on a new schedule in our house.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Joe takes the kids and I take the afternoon to write. I needed some creative time to myself to flex my fingers across this keyboard and see what comes.  I’ve issued myself a challenge for Thursdays: write for one hour and post it no matter what.  I have a timer and an alarm set on my phone and I’m just a-writing til it dings.

Writing is a ghostly, illusive beast, ain’t she?  I’ve spent most of my life not writing (or drawing or painting or making a plethora of other things) because the mystical creature called Inspiration just didn’t feel like showing up.  It’s not her fault, I’d reason, she must be busy with people who get paid to do this. But like most things, if you wait until you feel like doing something hard, you will likely never do it.  So, I’m trying this new way – the sit your butt in the chair, girl, and write whether you feel like it or not method.  My friend, Abby encouraged me to do this.  She said creativity is a discipline just like anything else.  The funny thing about writing is that it never turns out like you expected.  All morning, as I was making breakfast and wiping crumbs from the table and wiping faces and wiping bottoms, I was writing blogs in my head – but none of them were this blog.  It’s kind of fun to show up and see what happens.

See you next Thursday.

P.S. If you’re wondering why it took me an hour to write such a short post, please note that there is a picture AND a link in this post and this girl is rusty.  Those took a good 20 min. each.  I’ll get better, I promise:)