Beige walls…no more!  Although, Chris never referred to our walls as “beige,” he is glad they are gone as well.  “Well, honey, if they aren’t beige–what color would you call them?”  I would ask.  To which he replied, “I don’t know, yellowish-with-a-touch-of-brown.”  Tomato, tomahto I guess.  The festivities began when Greta took her morning nap and I started prepping the area.  I took down all of the pictures, curtains, mirrors, guitar, etc.  and moved everything away from the walls to create a huge mess:

And then I spackled all of the hundreds of nail and screw holes from previous tenants.  Ah, the perks of renting.  Once it dried, I sanded the spackle smooth.  Chris came home a little early from work and we started painting around 4.  I took on the task of detail work and cutting in (this brush was AWESOME!  I didn’t even take off any light or plug plates.  Truly magical.)  and he rolled on the paint like there was no tomorrow.  Of course, we took turns on Greta duty, but for the most part she was happy to just watch us paint and dance and sing to Jack Johnson/Dave Matthews/Dashboard (those guys got us through it).  We ended up getting Benjamin Moore’s Whitestone color-matched to Olympic No-VOC paint at Lowe’s.  We totally recommend it, too, because there was no paint odor at all. We didn’t have to crack a window open in below freezing weather, we didn’t have to worry about little Greta-girl sucking in fumes, and it is environmentally friendly as well.  Not to mention, a gallon of Olympic paint is about $21, compared to Benny boy’s $41+ price tag.  It was no contest.

So, between playing with Greta, taking a time-out to get her to bed around 6, our pizza break around 8–we finished up at 10:30 pm!  Exhausted, but thrilled with the results.

  

 

KISSY ’cause we’re done.  Delirious from staring at walls for hours.