When Does White Make Right?

If my post today seems wobbly

and not quite all there,

it's because of these:

 Baby Calvin

Baby Luke

Born this morning to my niece and god-daughter Maggie, and her husband Garrett.

Twin boys. . . their first!  Calvin weighs nearly 7 pounds, Luke just over 7.

I am over the moon, and just wish they weren't way out in Michigan.

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Anyway, I need to settle down and get my head together, and make myself useful.

That useful part?  It involves this:

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let's begin at the beginning, which in this case would be this past Friday,

when two lovely gentlemen came and tore up the old dirt-magnet white conservatory carpet:

 And the old padding . . . goodbye old stuff, hello cement subfloor.

 And bless their hearts, they brought in brand spanking new padding and carpet.

All done!  And the first vacuuming accomplished.

 It's a tough Berber, and it's pretty much just what I wanted -- dirt color.

Not that I don't vacuum, but when you have a room like this, which opens right out onto the patio,

all sorts of dirt and mud and objets d'schmutz get dragged in on people's feet..

And paws.

 Especially paws.

I would have liked to put a slate floor in this room, but

1) it would be cold in the winter.

2) it could be noisy -- not very good acoustics.

3) it would have cost $3000 more than carpeting.

Ouch.

Maybe someday I'll get a slate or brick floor in there.  Not now.

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On Saturday morning, Howard began to move the furniture back into the sunroom.

"Hey," said I, "as long as there's no furniture in the room . . . why don't we . . . paint it?"

 

Painting the conservatory means painting the kitchen as well.

No problem.  I had an inspiration kitchen in mind, that I'd seen in a decorating book.

I first saw it years ago, and it's still my favorite -- I think it looks timeless and non-decorated, if that makes sense.

I loved that the wallpaper is so non-kitchen.  And while miles of old wallpaper were stripped off 

That Old House, we haven't put up any.  But I was ready; I'd already picked out one for the kitchen.

So at nearly lunchtime on Saturday, Howard and I were at The Home Depot, getting paint.

I am usually a Benjamin Moore, Sherwin Williams, or Ralph Lauren gal, 

but I fell for the Behr paint-plus-primer they've been advertising on TV.

We would be covering a quite dark gold with off white; the built in primer sounded like the way to go.

My mother taught me that if I couldn't say anything nice, I shouldn't say anything at all.

So, I won't.  Say anything at all.

Anyway, as we began to put the paint on the walls, it struck me:

It was awfully white.

Remember learning from your parents or teachers that might doesn't make right?
Well, sometimes white doesn't look right!

I am not a white walls person.

I can admire them in someone else's home, or in a magazine.  But to live with white walls?

Houston, we have a problem.

I chose the color -- Table Linen -- to match the background of the wallpaper,
and now that it is up, it seems too light.

So I'm pasting swatches of paint and paper all over the wall, trying to find that perfect match.

That elusive color that is white, but not too much so.

I'm sorry these pictures are so dark.

When they were all taken, it was either pouring rain, or getting on to dusk. 

Well, I was going to finish up a second coat of what has turned out to be very expensive primer today,

and then get out to the paint store and buy some samples of other colors . . .

but Calvin and Luke have me walking in circles.

Yes, our conservatory and kitchen are undergoing a metamorphosis, but that is so insignificant

compared to the miraculous metamorphosis of my dear Maggie into a mama.
And my sister Peggy into a Grandma.

Twice over!

Happy Monday to all!  -- Cass

 Linking today to Metamorphosis Monday,
Susan's terrific blog party at Between Naps On The Porch.
Click here to visit!