The spinach green is being replaced here with the white. My camera keeps capturing it as a pink. That is interesting because it is very white with a hint of pink, 'Marble White' yet no matter how I lit the room, the pink dominated. So pretend it is a clear white.
Steve likes to paint trim! I mean, if that isn't saintly, I don't know what is. For about two weeks now, he has puttered away on the trim and the walls. Luckily the entire dining room was finished before I entertained my Wednesday morning ladies group and everyone said out loud that they really liked the blue. In real life it is a dark tourquoise/azure. No comments on the trim colour, "Vintage Wine" a very dark purple/brown, but the overall comments were in favour. Good friends always tell each other the new paint jobs look spectacular.
Steve manages to do this work with the Christmas tree in place. I feel that once the tree is in place, all work should come to a halt until January 5th, then clean up in time for my birthday cake.
In other colour news,
Finally, I am working on a lace piece.
Tell me what you think of this next bit. I was sewing while at a meeting, so as to not lose my mind and leap over long tables to murder anyone. At the end of the meeting a very nice lady came up to me and said, "Why are you doing all that?" I explained the purpose of the piece (I haven't shared it with you all yet) and she said "I don't know why you do that, It makes my stomach turn just to watch you. All that fiddly hand work." And she smiled to show she didn't mean to ... stab me in the heart. I felt the stab for only a moment though, I have come a long way from needing other people's endorsement of my work. But then I started to think (usually too much) I can fully understand someone not wanting to ever hold a needle and thread in their hands, just ask me about measuring cups and frying pans. But it just seemed a little too... personal. Maybe I need to ratchet back my "Oh God I hate cooking" remarks. Maybe I am hurting people who love to cook and think I'm a bitch for my joking comments? Maybe they aren't jokes after all? Do those sorts of comments about your passions hurt you, or are they funny? I could use a learning moment here.