After church and Target I spent the afternoon Cutting In. The paint color I chose on a whim yesterday - not one of the many samples I brought home and meditated over - is called Cream in My Coffee. Lowe's American Traditions paint - excellent stuff. I'd call it "A tablespoon of coffee in my cream" but whatever, it's a delicate cafe au lait, heavy on the lait, and I think it will work. It doesn't "match" the cabinets in that safe way I would have gone for in my youth, but it works with it and the granite for the countertop, and it has a warm undertone that will work with the crisp Northern light from the big front window that now floods the whole room with light. I may sponge a darker tone below the chair rail in the dining area or I may just go with this color throughout. I don't like to get too "busy" in a small space, I'm a minimalist.

I can't paint the ceiling. I considered it but it's a popcorn ceiling, and I climbed the ladder and just brushed my hand across it and caused a minor snowstorm of crap, so I ain't touching that sucker, it would be a mess. When it's time to do a new ceiling I'm gonna hire a pro to do a knockdown and get rid of that popcorn crap. For now, the ceiling will do. It's not in bad shape, it has no stains or nasty spots, it's acceptable. I don't have the same faith in the drywall patches. I may end up repainting this area with a textured paint, but it's too soon to tell, it may still work out fine.

I did paint the dog. Or rather, Murphy painted himself. I trusted him a bit too much - I was cutting in at ceiling level and I had the paint in a bucket on the ladder with me, so I figured he was safe enough below. He was across the room watching at first, but once I climbed the ladder he got below the ladder to watch. He watched intently, developing a hell of a crick in his neck from that angle, and of course he got into the first available drip of paint. I looked down and saw that his beard (the lower jaw hair) had paint at the tips. He was deposited into his crate and spent the rest of the afternoon in there, complaining a bit, but not too much. He knew he'd screwed up and accepted his exile.

So today was Pentecost Sunday, and the celebrant wore glorious red vestments - a really great red tilting toward orange, not a conservative blue-tinged red. And I realized my wardrobe is suffering a serious shortage of red - I have lots of neutrals and my favorite blues and greens, but what happened to RED? I love red and red loves me, so how did red fall out of my rotation? So I think I need a red Cotton-ease Shapely Tank in my wardrobe. As soon as this painting hell is over I'm casting one on. It's time to spice things up.