I thought I had found the perfect off-white colour for our kitchen cupboards. Warm but not too yellow; clear but not cold. Somewhere in-between that was just right.
I was happy with my decision. But it turns out I can't have it. It's not available in the finish we want so I have to choose another paint colour.
Do you know how many different shades of off-white there are?
I was moaning about having to make a choice - a choice that I may have to live with for the next twenty or so years - and of course one moan led to another. I started in on how I hate this feeling of being out of control.
If I could just know ...
to the very minute how long the building will take ...
what order the work will be done in ...
whether it's going to rain or snow (okay the latter is virtually unheard of where we live but there is a one in one hundred year possibility) once the external walls have been removed ...
if we're going to manage to sort out temporary kitchen and laundry facilities before next Monday - not to mention other important considerations such as Internet and where to place the dog's kennel ...
that it was all going to come in miles under budget (I can dream, can't I?) ...
if my sanity will survive ...
that it will all look as wonderful as we envisage (no slur on the builder - we have no doubt that he'll do a great job - but on us: what if we choose the wrong shade of off-white and it looks horrendous?) ...
that my house will remain neat and tidy throughout the entire renovation and I won't even notice that walls and windows have been removed (surely they can camouflage it somehow) ...
the exact time and date of when my beautiful grandbaby will be born and what it will be (okay, has nothing to do with building but it's just one more thing that I have no control over and I'm getting very anxious to see and hold this latest baby who has already claimed my heart) ...
etc, etc, etc ...
I'd be happy.
But not knowing, not being in control, is threatening my very peace of mind. DH is already considering a three-month hunting expedition into the bush - possibly to look for elusive Wapiti or Rusa Deer. I will not even entertain the idea that it's because of me that he's dropped such hints. I know I like things orderly and that I like to know what's going on but I'm not such a control freak as all that.
Am I?
I was happy with my decision. But it turns out I can't have it. It's not available in the finish we want so I have to choose another paint colour.
Do you know how many different shades of off-white there are?
I was moaning about having to make a choice - a choice that I may have to live with for the next twenty or so years - and of course one moan led to another. I started in on how I hate this feeling of being out of control.
If I could just know ...
to the very minute how long the building will take ...
what order the work will be done in ...
whether it's going to rain or snow (okay the latter is virtually unheard of where we live but there is a one in one hundred year possibility) once the external walls have been removed ...
if we're going to manage to sort out temporary kitchen and laundry facilities before next Monday - not to mention other important considerations such as Internet and where to place the dog's kennel ...
that it was all going to come in miles under budget (I can dream, can't I?) ...
if my sanity will survive ...
that it will all look as wonderful as we envisage (no slur on the builder - we have no doubt that he'll do a great job - but on us: what if we choose the wrong shade of off-white and it looks horrendous?) ...
that my house will remain neat and tidy throughout the entire renovation and I won't even notice that walls and windows have been removed (surely they can camouflage it somehow) ...
the exact time and date of when my beautiful grandbaby will be born and what it will be (okay, has nothing to do with building but it's just one more thing that I have no control over and I'm getting very anxious to see and hold this latest baby who has already claimed my heart) ...
etc, etc, etc ...
I'd be happy.
But not knowing, not being in control, is threatening my very peace of mind. DH is already considering a three-month hunting expedition into the bush - possibly to look for elusive Wapiti or Rusa Deer. I will not even entertain the idea that it's because of me that he's dropped such hints. I know I like things orderly and that I like to know what's going on but I'm not such a control freak as all that.
Am I?
Comments
BTW, two and a half years on and I'm still loving my 'new' kitchen.