When we first moved here, we attempted to name each of the 14 rooms in the house and rustico.
We had several obvious bedrooms and bathrooms. We quickly identified what would logically be the kitchen and dining room. After several tours through the house, we eventually found the room that was to be the laundry. It lay in the bowels of the house, surrounded by several other rooms and several layers of stone walling.
This left only two rooms upstairs that we couldn't easily classify.
At first we called the smaller walk-through room the 'library' because we thought it would be a good location for bookcases. We called the other much larger room with a loft the 'gallery' because we thought it would offer the biggest and widest walls on which to hang artwork.
After focusing on the renovation of the bedrooms, bathrooms, kitchen and dining room over summer, we'd only recently moved our focus to these two rooms. As the weather cooled and we found ourselves still watching television, talking on the phone and accessing internet in the unheated and uninsulated rustico, finding a room in the house in which to do all these things became increasingly important.
So we launched on the larger room with a loft. As we got to know this room, we realised that the inbuilt hutches with shelves that already existed on two walls would be better served as bookcases. So after Stu installed several more shelves in these spaces, we soon renamed the room the 'library'.
Since the room now had an image to uphold, I set about painting the walls.
I had visions of the 'library' being the most peaceful room in the house. I wanted it to be trendy and stylish and decided to paint two walls one colour and two walls another colour. The colours I chose had to work with the stone walls and the wooden ceiling but also create a relaxing mood.
At the hardware shop the following day, I chose a sort of tea and a sort of coffee. I bought only small tins of these specially mixed colours. With the benefit of hindsight, I now know that this was probably an indication of the confidence I had in my colour choices.
When I got home, I launched at the walls with great enthusiasm with my hairless brush and my hairy roller. My painting instruments had seen better days.
My first colour was perfect. The tea put a lovely warm tinge on the walls, blending with the grey stone walls and bringing the room together.
My second colour was horrific. I piled the coffee on the walls, hoping that with varying thicknesses it might appear less 'orange'. I even pretended I liked it for the rest of the day. When the next day proved that the colour was definitely 'orange' and didn't offer enough contrast to the other colour I decided to take remedial action.
I returned to the hardware shop, adamant that I would select a better colour to go with the perfect colour I had already bought. I was thinking 'taupe' or 'chocolate'...one of those trendy colours that other people seem to choose easily.
I bought a small tin of a brownish colour and painted a line on the wall where this colour would meet the other colour. It was perfect.
The next day I painted the remaining walls with my new colour.
While not exactly the 'taupe' or 'chocolate' I had hoped for, the strange rusty depth of this colour is tolerable...at least it will be, after we cover most of it up with paintings and artwork!
What a trauma - I think you should concentrate on the paintings that will adorn the walls - make them all abstracts so that "anything goes" - the gaudie rthe better - Your Father
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