Winter in Paris....is Really Green

How does that old 80s song go - it's just another manic Monday?

I stayed up way too late last night messing around on my laptop with color schemes and online virtual paint programs, trying to stumble upon the most amazing gray/silver color to adorn my bedroom walls.  Picking paint takes me FOR-EV-ER.  I thought I had finally found the perfect shade, as well as a coordinating color for the attached master bath. 

My husband went and picked the color swatch up today, and wouldn't you know, it's not even gray in real life.  It's more like a foamy greenish hue. 

What. the. heck. 

Winter in Paris.  Does this look green to you??  Exactly.  It doesn't.  But it is.

I didn't stay up wayyy past my bedtime on a Sunday night to find out I have to start all over, but wouldn't you know, that's what I'm doing.

I've learned my lesson though.  Do not trust virtual painters.  They lie.

So I'll do this the old-fashioned way.  March my paint-challenged butt up to the store and bring back about 100 paint sample strips, hold each up to the wall in various light sources, narrow it down to 95, and then start over again until I get down to about 5 colors, at which point I'll wonder if I already cast out the perfect shade in a moment of color confusion.

They say painting is the easiest, cheapest design change and to that I say maybe so, but it's also the most overwhelming.

Anyway, if anyone knows the perfect shade of gray that's neither too blue or too green, I'm all ears.

Moving on.....

Check out my new hat. 

Etsy:  MelsBellsClocheHats

You know how I said last week that I let Etsy back on my radar?  Well, I found this jewel and had to have it.  I mean, it just perks a winter day right up, and speaking of that, we're about to be deluged by some nasty February weather.  I just know this hat will make walking outside in 7 degree weather totally bearable.

Ok, maybe not, but I will for sure be fashionable.

Maybe I'll wear it to G-man's school play on Thursday, even if it doesn't fit in with the Texas theme of their performance. 

I have been trying to elicit some kind of inkling of what this play's about for weeks, begging him to show me part of a dance or sing a snippet of a song.  Nope.  All to no avail.  He's not interested in humoring me in the slightest bit.  Mum's the word around these parts on this secret play.  The only clue I have is that he's in something call Brass Wagon. 

We almost had a break-through tonight, as G-man is whirling B-man around the living room in some sort of square-dance/promenade-type routine that looks completely like two boys who can't dance to save their lives.  My husband seized the opportunity and said, "hey G-man, why don't you sing us a song from the play?  You probably need the practice, and it's only a few days away."

He immediately ceased the dancing festivities and said, "no, Dad, you don't need to practice when you're already good."

What can I say.  What the kid lacks in rhythm and timing, he more than makes up for in confidence.  He's got the brass sass part down for sure.

I can't wait for the actual performance.  I'm bringing my new hat, my camera and what I'm sure will be a one-hour long continuous smile.