My living room. We have had ivory linen walls and ceiling for 14 years. I am so sick of ivory linen walls and ceiling that I could scream. We had no choice but to use a color like ivory linen because the ceilings are coved, and we had no line of demarcation between the walls and ceiling. I didn't want a dark ceiling, so ivory linen it was.
For 14 years.
On the walls and the ceiling.
My ivory linen cave.
In mid-June we made a trip to the lumber store, and after a scary ride home with 19-foot long pieces of picture rail molding sticking out the front window of our van, we were almost ready to begin the living room transformation. Except, of course, my husband couldn't get around to installing the molding because he's a busy guy, so the molding sat on the living room floor for a couple weeks where the kids tripped over it, and I tripped over it, and the cats pawed at it. When my birthday neared a few weeks ago, I begged: Please, the ONLY thing I want for my birthday is for that molding to be installed! And, bless him, he did it, in time for my birthday.
So now it's my turn to paint. Turns out I'm as slow at getting to painting as he was to getting the molding installed. But it's been hot and I haven't been too motivated, and we have been really busy. Anyway. By next week I should have photos of a finished living room to share. It would be embarrassing not to now that I've told you about this, so this is my motivation. The new color will be Sherwin Williams Hubbard Squash, which you can see in the swatch. My sister has walls this color in her house, and I shamelessly stole the idea from her. That beats looking at a bazillion paint chips at home and feeling dizzy with the choices.
One of the things I've been doing instead of painting is reading. I finished Mortal Engines, by Phillip Reeve, yesterday. Wow! I loved it! As I read it I had that same awestruck feeling I had when I read the first Harry Potter book in 1999. The author so deftly creates another world that the reader immediately falls right in and understands it. How can you not be pulled into a book which begins "It was a dark, blustery afternoon in spring, and the city of London was chasing a small mining town across the dried-out bed of the Old North Sea." Don't you want to find out more?
Our library put Mortal Engines in the teen section, but I think a mature tween can handle it. There is death (sometimes graphic), and there are moral issues to grapple with, as well as having to worry about the fate of mankind, but when I finished it yesterday, I turned the book right over to my son (who will be 11 in August). He has had his nose buried in it most of the day today!