Pink

I promised Elizabeth I'd paint her room this week. We've had the paint for months, just no time to use it. So I spent most of Tuesday and yesterday prepping (read: moving furniture and trying to figure out how to attack this monstrous old-house project). Finally yesterday afternoon I got to crack open a can of pink-tinted primer and cover the hideous yellow walls, a garish mistake the poor child has lived with patiently for four years. I think I'm more excited than she is. I'm obviously not a pro. Not only is the paint job imperfect, but I got paint in my eye, my hair, and even after a very thorough bath, I'm still finding patches of paint everywhere. But I promise you that however old the house and imperfect the job, it will look better than what was there before.

Today it's on to the real paint (also pink) and trim. Can I finish? Wish me well!