Designing Italy...

When hubby and I went to Italy, we were constantly enamored by the beautifully painted buildings. Unlike San Diego's blah beige buildings, Italy's were painted the warm colors of sunset. Yellows, pinks, purples, and deep reds scattered the landscape.

After returning home, we decided we wanted to capture the 'essence of Italy' on our dining room wall. We took our photos of the best colors and matched them under the fluorescent lit swatches at the hardware store.

We watched the colors drip from the machine into the creamy white paint, barely containing our excitement.

"This is going to be awesome" my husband said smiling. "Let's paint the walls, cook the italian pasta we brought home, and drink a nice bottle of Chianti."

On the car ride home, we held hands and reminisced about our unforgettable trip. But this, THIS paint, would bring back floods of memories every time we saw it.

Hubby painted the walls while I cooked the pasta and uncorked the wine. A few rolled brush strokes in, we stood in front of the wall, our heads tilted sideways.

"Hmm. It seems off... but paint changes color when it dries right?" Chris said.

"Uh. Yeah. Let's let it dry." I said.

So we did.



And uh... there is no other way to describe the color than...

the color of puke after drinking pepto bismol.


Not willing to admit defeat, Chris and I sat at the kitchen bar, eating our pasta, silently staring at the wall.

"Well hon, the only memory this is reviving is the one where I barfed after the luau in Hawaii. While that trip was a great one... that's not the part I want to remember" I said taking a swig of the expensive Chianti.

We stared more in silence.

"Yup. Barf. Pepto barf. Gotta go." Chris said.

Off went Chris to the hardware store to re-tint the paint. I cleaned the kitchen and poured another glass of wine.

Paint, paint, paint.

"Looks like the Barbie Dream House" I said.

Off to re-tint the paint - taking a stab at yellow this time.

I poured more wine.
Paint, paint, paint.

"I think we may have captured the color of urine" I said, gulping wine.

Paint, paint, paint. Glug, glug, glug.

"Looks like blood."

Paint, paint, paint. Glug, glug, glug.

"Looks like Barney the dinosaur" I said, swirling the wine in my glass.

"Are you shooting these all down so you can polish off the Chianti by yourself?" Chris accused.

"Meeee??? Nooooooooooo" I slurred.

Paint, paint, paint. Glug, glug, glug... bottle empty.

"That'szp itz!" I screamed, "That'sz Ishaly!!"

"Convenient. Italy appears when Chianti disappears." He said.



Whatever. We found the color of Italy... and it's lovely.