Painting With The Agronomist: A True Story ~ Part 1

As many of you know our eldest is away for three weeks.

One of the planned activities during her absence was to paint her sisters bedroom. 

While she was away the two younger girls would be able to bunk in her room, allowing us to transform their room without too much upheaval. 
The dismantling, patching and painting could easily be done in one weekend.
Right?

So on Friday of this past week, in passing, I mentioned to the The Agronomist, the promise we had made to the girls several weeks before.

This was our converstion:

We made a promise? 

I’m sure I told you? 

Yes, it was while you were checking the weather page on the computer and I said, you know, the girls room really needs to be painted, Remember?

He looked at me, sighed, then turned and walked away. 

As he vanished from sight, downstairs to his office,  I heard a few words waft their way up the stairs.

Well just go ahead and... pickle the plant then.

Not wanting to seem daft, I tried to make sense of this obvious Agronomic innuendo.

Pickle the Plant?  I yelled from the kitchen, What do you mean Pickle the Pl… It was then, I realized with great joy that he had in fact uttered the three most loving words a man could mumble up the stairs to his wife of 17 years.

He didn’t want me to pickle the plant, He wanted me to pick the paint… as in colours, 
glorious wonderful colours.

I immediately unearthed my six different colour swatches from every paint company in our small city, and set to work.

Ten long years it had been since this room last saw a paint brush. Ten Loooong Years. 

A half hour later, as he walked past me on the way to get the mail, he looked over, and with a steely glint in his eye he said,

I’m starting tonight.

What? Tonight?  But, but, I have to pick colours?

He stopped in his tracks, coffee cup midway to his mouth.

Colour…sss?

Yeah, I have to pick colours, 

What is wrong with him? Isn't that what he just told me to do?  Sometimes I wonder if we are even in the same room when we are talking,  
I mulled these questions over, in a split second, as we continued our conversation. 

and you know how hard it is to get just the right hue?  

You’re only giving me eight hours? 

Really?  Really? To pick all these colours?

ALL?…these…colour…sss?

Well yeah-uh?

The colour above the railing, the colour below the railing, the colour for the trim and then for the furniture…

The Furniture?

Yeah the furniture. They are all baby colours now.  For when they were babies, ten years ago? 
If we paint the walls then we HAVE to paint the furniture.  
It would look silly otherwise.  

So …  a colour for the ceiling, the walls, the trim, and a colour for the furniture.

Couldn’t the furniture just be the trim colour?

Well...I kind of had this idea, you see... 

You had an idea.

Yeah, you see, each piece of furniture is a different bright colour and it really POPS against the lighter walls.  It's a real designer look... Very Now.

I heard a slow exhalation of breath.
How many colours? 

Umm?  

As I quickly calculated, above the rail, below the rail, the trim, the beds, the shelves, and the small dresser... I realized one more idea I had likely not mentioned.

Oh, did I mention that the closet doors and inside door will probably be a different colour too?

How many colours?

Are you finished your coffee already?  Here let me get you some more…

How many colours?

You know, I really like that periwinkle blue on you.  It looks really good with your tan.

How many colours?


You're a man of few words, aren't you?
I think I may need a calculator.


Daaaana?

Eight.

TO BE CONTINUED...

     XO