Hawt Pink

The house is quiet now. The hubby in bed after a gluttonous March Madness meal. Like a sated king, he lounges in his bed and watches the flat screen TV and digital cable I bought him while he looks out the window at the cement hole in the ground that implies a future swimming pool. He works hard and this life he created is his reward.

Not all things turn out the way you hope them too. Far too many things in our life have not turned out the way we planned or hoped. That's why we put concentrated effort into enjoying life when everything hums along. I've tried to stop living like the other shoe will drop. It's not a constructive way to live and sucks the joy out of the now. Like "M" from The Incredibles, "I don't think in the past, dahling, it distracts from the now." Well, I'm not quite that zennish, but I try.

Steve noted with amusement that our to-do lists consist of tasks we give other people to do. Well, it's partly true. Last I checked I'm still changing diapers, cooking badly, doing laundry and loading and unloading dishes like a robot on an assembly line, but I get what he means. This year, for the first time, we hired people to paint our house.

It took two days.

You read that right. As much as I love the finished product and am willing to wait a couple weeks for it when my husband paints, I so delight in immediate gratification. If you have the means, I highly recommend it. It's better than marriage counseling. In fact, hiring people to do jobs on one's to do list is like preventative marriage medicine. Who needs a therapist when experts do the work in a timely and professional manner? That's right, no one!

My house, Al Gore would be happy to note, is energy efficient due to deep porches that obscure almost all direct hot, Houston sun. The upside is our moderate electric bills. The downside is that our house is overly dark even at high noon on a summer day. This was a problem to be solved. (Any sentence to my husband that starts, "Honey, I was thinking....", elicits a tortured groan.) In this case, I was thinking of painting or a sky-light or both.

The previous owners went for a Texas Hill Country/Colorado lodge/Americana/Mission look. It works better than one would expect. Cedar siding and faux-limestone and rock rivers and weathered copper fixtures and the piece de resistance: the antler chandelier. A big 'un. The interior paint was called Tobacco Road and looked like a mustardy yellow tobacco. Every room and every surface was covered with this color. And while it is friendly at first greeting, the paint becomes oppressive and you find yourself tired just being in the same room with it. Finally, you look for ways to not be there. That's not good when it's your house.

My friend is a faux finisher and paint specialist. She wanted to "go muddy". She likes complex and moody paint colors and did her best not to hold her nose at the pale pink in my bedroom. My husband and I both love this color, thank you very much. It positively glows with the morning sun. He's a confident man. He just shrugs off the snickers from male acquaintances as so much macho insecurity. He's a man okay with pink.

That's good because there is now more pink in the house. Well, more like the raspberry side of red. It's in the office, where I sit tapping away on my iMac as I write this. In here there is lots of oak cabinetry. I thought the red would be closer to Coke-can red, but it goes a bit pink--albeit deep, reddish pink. It actually turned out gorgeous. I love it. And everyone else in the family does, too.

The rest of the house is a now a more golden yellow with a hint of well, pink, in it. It sure didn't look like this in the small square but when the sun hits it, it glows. This color, too, looks great. They are warm colors that energize the house and our wood heavy house needed it. Really, all the colors are a happy accident. I finally forced myself to make a decision and chose colors from swatches I didn't get samples of. I wasn't fond of the samples so took a whole-house leap of faith.

My only concern now is the antler chandelier. Back in the day of smoky cigarette coloring and earth tones, the antlers looked Texas and manly. The house has moved away from the complex and moody feel and gone traditional and cheerful. More southern hospitality and less Texas ranch. What to do? I'm actually fond of that chandelier. More than one friend came into the house and tried to politely stifle their aesthetic horror. This amused me. So while I started out neutral on the chandelier, it has since given me so much entertainment, I don't want to part with it. I love how the chandelier makes me appear a little uncivilized. It keeps people guessing.

Maybe I'll buy some leopard print to go with the hot pink. Grrrrrr...... Oh, heck. Meow.