I mentioned a week or two ago on the blog that I had been planning to repaint Grace's room forever, but couldn't decide on a color. I believe this was incorporated into a whine about how exhausted I had been feeling, and blah blah blah. The rest of that story is that about an hour after I published that lovely piece of writing, my good friend Julie showed up with a giant Diet Dr. Pepper (with cherry) from Sonic, pointed at exactly the paint chip that I liked best, gave me wonderful advice on a gift to give my daughter for her baptism, and left. She solved all of the problems I had been whining about.
Have I mentioned what a great friend Julie is? Twelve times? Okay.
So after she left, I got jazzed up on Dr. Pepper and spent the entire afternoon and evening painting while my kids sat on the bed and maintained a disproportionate level of enthusiasm over what basically amounted to watching paint dry.
Brace yourselves for the 'before' photo:That is twelve kinds of ugly, people. Lovingly sponge painted in a garish combination of gray, purple, and white by the previous owner. So 1996. It was only after I painted the walls that Grace revealed to me that she sometimes lies awake at night and sees scary faces in the paint patterns. She'll be in therapy for that, for sure.
And now, the finished product:I don't know why I didn't take the same view of the entire room, or at least try to get a wider shot. I can only say I am enthralled with the new camera and was not thinking clearly. Also I dragged out the tripod and shot in twelve different modes to see which one was best, but they all looked the same. Because I had nothing else I needed to do today.
The painting by the window was a gift from my sister Stacie, and it is from a photograph of Grace at Duke Gardens when she was 15 months old or so. It had not yet found a good home in this house, but I think it fits perfectly here now.
So lovely. Also the cross-stitch above the bed was a gift from Aunt Becky, who can cross-stitch like the wind.
Tommy was given a nice Cowboy one when he was born. Katie keeps asking about her cross-stitch, and I just tell her Aunt Becky doesn't love her.
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