I'm clinging to hope that our bedroom adventure will end tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.
It's been cute and all, camping out in the spare bedroom, sleeping on a mattress on the floor, but I'm about done.
Actually, my part of the adventure IS done, as in, complete.
Our ancient old subfloor made of four inch wide pine boards had been bare in spots, brown paint in others and harvest gold in still others. Now it's a handsome solid dark green, somewhere between kelly and forest. For once, a paint colour in my home does not have a cutsey Martha Stewart name.
The old wooden headboard, the kind that is also a bookshelf, is a Martha Stewart colour, though: Ironstone, a colour which now has to be specially mixed since there seems to be some rule about changing the formulations of paint every two or three years.
We decided to buy an actual bedframe upon which to put the new mattress, but while we got the mattress in town(great service and price at Home Furniture...), we couldn't find the frame we wanted at a price we were willing to pay, and thus, Sweetie moves tonight into a town many of us dread. Allen Key City. (no!) You see, while I'm in charge of storage and decorating, he's the master of killng winged creatures and spiders, lifting heavy objects and assembling flat-packed European furniture. It's an arrangement that has worked well for us thus far.
The illustrated cartoon critters in the instruction .pdf I downloaded look like they're having fun, but I expect a lot of cursing, perhaps enough to melt the new paint on the bedroom floor.
Anyone want to take bets on how devilishly difficult the Swedish puzzle will be and how long it will take until we're finally ensconced in our own room once more?
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