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At least the color I chose doesn’t look any worse than the color that was there…
Hi. I’m Rachael and I’m a painting addict.
Could you live with a pine colored walls and mustard countertops? Well, one of the problems is solved…

There. I finally admitted it to myself. Once I get started on a project, it’s terribly difficult for me to stop. This week, it’s been the kitchen. Though for now, the countertops are still their retro mustard yellow, something had to be done about the oppressive green walls. Like most of the other surfaces of this house, it looked like a classroom of elementary school students were brought in to do texturing and wall accent colors. Not pretty.

Making our way around the kitchen. It’s so much brighter!

A few days ago, after dropping off Evelyn and going on our usual morning run, I mysteriously found myself in front of the paint counter, ordering a light blue-grey to go with a countertop I’ll eventually put in the kitchen. Having no recollection of how I got there, I paid, found out their was a rebate and found myself at the paint counter once again two days later for another gallon of paint. Of course, I rationalized that the rebate made me do it. Well, it really did.

The door to nowhere is no more!

I’ve been painting the kitchen walls, ceiling, windows and trim for three days straight . I can hardly think of anything else. I giddily plan what order I’ll paint things and go to great lengths to accomplish it. I found fifteen free minutes this morning before taking Evelyn to school and guess what I did? Painted.

Kate got paint in her hair? Meh. It comes out easier than gum.

I knew I had a problem when I started shrugging off paint in my hair, the girls hair and on clothes or permanently embedded in my cuticles. At any given moment, I have three cans of different type of primers open (water-based, oil-based and odorless) and several hues of paint for the walls. I save my paint can lids so I can grab them in a hurry when I want to get more of the same color and out of a sick curiosity to see just how many gallons it will take to paint this monster top to bottom. I even have a favorite paint brush (Blue Hawk angled two-inch paint brush–I think I have about sixty of them lying around) and don’t flinch when I do the dishes and there’s a sudsy cup of water next to the sink with some brushes soaking.

Claire backed into the wall and in an instant, her pants have been converted into painting clothes.
I’m a painting addict. But then I shrug and think there are worse things.

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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