Cause this is a family blog.
But the fact that I can’t use the title I really want is killing me. The title I really want will become evident in a few paragraphs. As will why I can’t use it. Because as much as I love lots of visitors and lots of comments, some traffic and some comments just really need to avoid this neighborhood. This neighborhood won’t actually be interesting to that traffic, and I find that disgruntled web-surfers can be a surly bunch.
And now I am going to do the Martha Points ChaChaCha….darnit, where did I leave my maracas?
(I always yell at the cats when I’m annoyed. Sometimes they haven’t done whatever it is I’m yelling at them for, but on a practical level, odds are in my favor.)
I live in a yellow house.
I did not seek out a yellow house. Yellow houses don’t speak to me on a personal level. What spoke to me was four bedrooms in a really good neighborhood, and yellow just came along for the ride.
Now let me be clear, I don’t object to yellow houses. I don’t go around mocking them or trying to make them feel inadequate. I don’t knock on the doors of strangers in yellow houses and say things like, “Really, have you considered a nice medium gray?”
But my house is yellow, which is okay.
The front door, however, was red.
The red I objected to.
I don’t like red and yellow together in decorating. It makes me think of ketchup and mustard. It makes me look at my house and think, “Wow, my house looks like a giant hotdog.” It makes me look at the evergreen shrubs and think, “That could be relish.” It makes me think of lots of gullet-torturing flavor combinations that belong at kids’ parties or major league sporting events.
You’d think a front door color would be an easy fix. Especially given my intimate relationship with paint. There are some rooms in my house that have been painted – not kidding – four times since we moved in.
And somehow my husband still speaks to me. It’s amazing, no?
But what else can I do? My taste is “Million dollar remodel!” My wallet is “Gallon o’ Glidden.”
So why live with the condiment door for so long?
Couldn’t pick a color.
White? No…Fine for the trim, don’t want to have to be perpetually cleaning a door.
Forrest green? With yellow? Screams Oakland A’s.
Blue? With yellow? Too country kitchen. Bandana wearing geese will stalk me.
Brown? Orange? Purple? Pink? Turquoise? Magenta? Burnt Siena?
(Now I have “Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat” stuck in my head.)
Then one day, while reading a magazine, I saw a gorgeous door. Bright. Funky. I carried the picture outside and put the photo against the pale yellow of my house.
(Once upon a time I sung first soprano in that piece. Now I think I sing second tenor.)
So here is a picture of the new door. Er, the new door color. Same door.
We also replaced the light fixture, as we were never really fans of the old-fashioned lantern-style. PLUS, we had a set of exposed wires outside the garage door that was meant to be a light fixture so we put the old one there. At least, we’re fairly certain it was meant to be a light fixture, it’s possible that we were meant to install a Maytag dishwasher over there, but we sometimes don’t pick up on the subtle decorating clues that the house tries to share with us. (Like, “Brown? Really? Football brown? You think you’re going to be happy with that? You like painting just for exercise? Is that it?” Sometimes the house is so enigmatic.)
Now we need a new doormat, though.
But back to the door. I love this green! I love how bright and clean it is. It tempts me to put a pretty little potted plant there, though. Which is not good. Why? Because no one will water it. We will all walk into the house and say to ourselves, “Look, that pretty little potted plant needs watering.” Then we will walk inside and say, “Oooh, is that indoor plumbing?” and completely forget about the desiccating little plant on the doorstep.
Maybe someday I will find something charming and funky that I can put there that will not require any sort of maintenance to balance out the pretty green and the empty space. But for now I’m just going to sit back and marvel at how my house no longer looks like something you’d shove down your gullet at a ball park.
And what of points, you ask?
Like I’d forget the points! (Except I that I almost did.)
For scraping, sanding, doorknob removing, taping, priming and applying three coats of paint I award myself: +7 Martha Points
Bringing my new total to: +29 points
There will be a little more cha-cha-ing now, yes there will be!
Oh, and about that title? Well, let’s just say that any title that might have the words “behind” and “green” and “door” in the same sentence belongs NOWHERE NEAR a humor blog about decorating.
This post also happily linked to “Works for Me Wednesday” at We Are THAT Family!