Painting the Entryway Red
Steve and I decided that we wouldn't fight about paint colors all weekend. In order to facilitate that decision, Olive and I went to Homer. Without him.
We got to spend good quality time with my mom planning wedding decorations, hearing all about my brother's recent diving trip to Fiji, and not arguing about paint colors.
While we were sitting at that exact table minutes after I took the above photo, Steve txt me the following:
See that chandelier? The chandelier we hate? Our plans to replace that chandelier were Future, in the Eventually kind of way. Steve had removed the glass pieces from it so he could swing it out of the way and paint the tall entryway. And here it is on the floor.
Me: :o Broken?
Steve: Me or the chandelier?
Me: Did you fall?
That's when I called him. I didn't get the whole story, not immediately, but in bits and pieces over the course of the next few days. I didn't believe that he was okay because I knew he wasn't telling me the whole story.
But the gist of it is that he was edging the top of the cathedral entryway and the ladder slipped under him. It put a few holes in the wall on the way down, then the ladder slipped to the right and he fell to the left.
I asked if I needed to come home, if he needed to see a doctor and he said Of Course Not, Don't Be Silly. He first said that he was shaken up, in shock, but nothing broken. Then a bit later he said he thought his fingers were broken. And then maybe his nose was broken. He didn't even mention his foot.
I called his brother to check up on him. My mom asked me if I was going home. I decided it was best if I just stopped asking him about it, because his answers were neither 100% complete nor 100% truthful.
Instead, Olive and I focused really hard on putting it out of our minds. A book and a couch helped tremendously.
What I do know is that he was holding some red paint when he went down. And so our entry way is a bit more red than we had expected. Hopefully we will be able to scrape most of it up off of the laminate flooring, but not from the carpet. Thank goodness for that contractor's plastic, otherwise it would have been much worse on the carpet.
Olive has taken on the roll of Paint Quality Inspector. And she is extremely thorough. If Olive approves of the red paint, then so do I.
But I'm currently sick of thinking, talking, arguing, and dreaming about paint. So I will finish with some photos of mountains from my drive to and from Homer. Because they were beautiful this weekend.