Taking Back the House in Fifty Shades of Beige

We are slowly reclaiming the "other side" of the house, that we rented out in September.  Not sure the craziness that instigated the wall, but it ended up allowing me the opportunity to spend the majority of the winter with Derek in Barbados.  It also provided a home for a lovely family of women.  3 of these women were under the age of 10.  Everything went relatively smoothly.  The house is not really designed for the noise factor of having 2 families so we are closer than many landlord/tenant relationships.  We were charmed by the 3 little girls "across the wall" and the pitter patter of their little feet.  I think when the little ones came over to visit, it was equated to Narnia.  It was another world when you passed through the door.

Narnia

We will miss them.

Well now we are on the move again, but mostly it is from the garage and basement to the upstairs of the house.  When we "decrapified" last summer, we got rid of so much stuff.  There was the infamous "bin/dumpster" which appeared in our driveway last August and was filled in moments.  I think guys love bins.  Despite Derek's commitment to landfill development , recycling and the diversion of waste, he sure loves his bin.  It was like a puzzle.  It was the ultimate packing challenge.  Just how much junk can you find and toss.  He was just about to throw the dog in, when a large truck saved the day for Casey.  Apparently Dumpster Diving is a new Toronto sport,but believe me, there was no diving going on in our driveway.

We were ruthless and we told our kids to be heartless. As my aunt was taught when she downsized," if you love it, take a picture of it and move on".  All old boyfriend stuff was tossed.  Many clothes that were once in fashion were donated.  Artwork was trashed.  Ok, I lie.  Artwork was framed and will be on display in our Empty Nest.

Too Cute - It made the cut

This week we will continue to reclaim this house as our home. This includes teaching me to paint.  Walls,  not pictures. That would be ridiculous.  I have avoided the painting task for years, since Derek decided when I was pregnant with Kate, that I should paint the closet.  This was before the days when the Mom-To-Be has a spa day while hubby paints and the fumes drift away before she returns.  No, Derek somehow felt that my big belly, and my apparently big butt would scrunch down in a closet and paint.  Fortunately I begged to differ and as a result, Katelyn has all of her fingers and toes.

Who puts her in the Closet?

Yes that is me!!  What a great butt.

 Up until now, my decorating involvement has been choosing paint colours and matching bedding.  Derek pretends to care very little about what colour I choose, until I get it home and he calls it "boring, drab or lifeless shades of beige."  I have tried to explain that the colour will show up once it is on the wall and dry.  So, with compliance he paints the wall and then declares that it is either "too blue, too yellow or too green".  I am then running to Home Depot asking them to dull it down to a more boring, drab or lifeless shade of beige.

I'll Show You Beige!

Now Derek has me convinced that being of non-childbearing years, I am now safe to take on the tasks of painting.  So far I have graduated from closets to ceilings.  I am not sure if this is a reflection of how well I did the closet, but sometime soon, I am hoping to get to use colour.  I started my painting lessons trying to find painting clothes.  When we decrapified the house, I did a really good purge of my wardrobe.  I still have various sizes of clothes of course, like many women do.  I just fewer items in each size range.  The size range includes "once I could wear that and I will again" then those I presently wear: "I can wear that now, but soon it will be too big" ( a pathological optimist), to "I once wore that when I was pregnant and I hope I never fit it again".  Finding painting clothes was a challenge so I decided on unflattering leggings at I will not be seen in again and one of Derek' famous Mark's Work Wearhouse shirts that make up 85% of his wardrobe.

Ok, He was cute too.



Hotter changing a tire!

Now on any given day, most of these shirts that Derek wears everywhere, including as pajamas, would be classified by men with flair, to be painting shirts. I nabbed one of these shirts as they are plentiful.  All of these shirts are truly a boring, drab or lifeless shade of beige.   I also ingeniously decided to pull out the bag of random socks and use these to finish off my part of my painting "outfit".

Our painting styles differ, but Derek is biting his tongue or I will walk away and have a nap.  He cringes when I use the roller on any angle except vertical.  He does not let me anywhere near the edges, as he has seen me colour with the kids.  Lines are merely a suggestion.  My attention to detail is lacking. Derek wears gloves to paint.  I only wear gloves if blood is involved and to date there has been no blood.  I told him gloves are for girls. 

We have made several trips back and forth Home Depot for painting paraphernalia,  in Derek's new but previoulsy enjoyed hot rod.  This car is peuter.  I reassured Derek that it is neither boring, drab nor a lifeless shade of beige.  I changed my clothes several times today.  I can't be seen with overly tight leggings and one of Derek's mousy brown shirts with my unmatched socks. I am frugal.  When I make it to Home Depot, I hope the mousy brown shade of beige paint in my hair covers my roots.