My house is being very demanding right now.
It's really cold, low 40's, and time to suck it up and turn on the heat. It's a Maine thing I picked up in college, that turning on the heat is somehow a surrender. Most people I know from up there wait as long as possible before turning on the boiler or lighting the stove. You know who you are.
Knowing that the time would soon come, I recruited my brother a few weeks ago to help me figure out the relatively-new oil burner and forced-hot water heating system. It took a while, largely due to an annoying digital thermostat, but eventually the system kicked in and the baseboard heating units warmed up. We had heat at the Archer house.
I shut off the thermostat, confident that all I'd have to do is turn it back on when the cold finally won. Well, when I turned on the heat before going to bed last night and it was just 55 degrees in the house this morning, I realized something was wrong.
We still don't know what the problem is with the burner. Could be the oldest electrical switch I have ever seen, the one that appears to have been manufactured the year after electricity was invented. The one that powers the oil burner. Could be something to do with the burner itself, or maybe the lock-outs, the relays, the oil line, the damned thermostat. Really, could be anything. And I don't want to pay for an emergency Sunday service call. So I called to leave a message to make a service appointment with the oil company for non-peak hours.
So the whole heat thing really frustrated me today, as I feel like I always live in houses that are too cold and I'm really tired of it. Aaron brought up the space heater for the living room. It was when he tried to vacuum off the same outlet as the space heater and the TV's surge strip that we blew a fuse in the living room and had to figure that out. It was a simple fix, but after the oil burner not starting I just didn't care any more.
The fuse was pretty easily sorted out. Not so much with the heat. So we have the space heater and blankets, as well as the dubious heat-producing abilities of a few Dura-Logs. It's not going to get below freezing, so we'll survive until the oil guy can come over. Cold doesn't win just yet. Though I can promise you that if there were a newborn in this house, we'd have sucked it up and paid the emergency service rates to get some heat in this house.
Part of my frustration was that it's been on my to-do list to have the damned oil furnace serviced and I just haven't gotten it done. I also regret not having paid attention during the home inspection. I wasn't feeling well that day and spent most of the time on the previous owner's couch.
Speaking of the previous owner, we realized today that they actually did have a water purification system, but the filter hasn't been changed in 3.5 years. They're supposed to last 3 months. No wonder the water tastes like moldy ass and we go through a Brita filter a month.
I take comfort in feeling like they weren't malicious about neglecting things in this house, but they just weren't totally forthcoming. Not that I blame them. Or maybe they just didn't know how to cope so they didn't. There are a lot of things that have turned up in this house that are just little issues. Nothing terrible, just an accumulation of stuff the last people probably inherited and couldn't be bothered with fixing either. I can understand that. I resent having to be surprised by it, but I bought this house and have a responsibility to figure it out and fix its problems.
10.19.2008
10.15.2008
Wary of the Invisible
Aaron picked up on something I said that sounded like "wary of the invisible", then used it his mood on MySpace. I thought it was a good line. I asked him if it came from the faulty carbon monoxide alarm we discovered this morning. The light had turned red and switched to "move to fresh air." Had we been slowly poisoned by an odorless, colorless gas? I did just fire up the oil furnace last week.
We opened a couple windows and I stopped to pick up a new CO detector this morning before my doctor's appointment. It's plugged in now and working fine. No CO in the house.
I also had on in the background the "Haunting" dramalogues on TLC this afternoon while I worked from the sofa. It's daytime TV, therefore full of baby commercials. Ah, welcome to a new demographic, Mrs. Archer.
Schlocky though they are, I kind of like those "Haunting" stories. Talk about wary of the invisible. Ironically, even the baby commercials are about the invisible -- my very squirmy full-term baby daughter. I know she's there, I can't ignore her. And I can't see her, other than in small quakes rippling in my prominent belly.
And yes, I'm a little wary of that invisible too. I'm ready for her to get here. I don't know what to expect once she does. I'm not sure exactly when she'll arrive, or how challenging it's going to be. All I know is that it's coming. I'm getting things done/keeping busy/resting until I get a better idea of exactly when, unmistakably, that one invisible will show up.
We opened a couple windows and I stopped to pick up a new CO detector this morning before my doctor's appointment. It's plugged in now and working fine. No CO in the house.
I also had on in the background the "Haunting" dramalogues on TLC this afternoon while I worked from the sofa. It's daytime TV, therefore full of baby commercials. Ah, welcome to a new demographic, Mrs. Archer.
Schlocky though they are, I kind of like those "Haunting" stories. Talk about wary of the invisible. Ironically, even the baby commercials are about the invisible -- my very squirmy full-term baby daughter. I know she's there, I can't ignore her. And I can't see her, other than in small quakes rippling in my prominent belly.
And yes, I'm a little wary of that invisible too. I'm ready for her to get here. I don't know what to expect once she does. I'm not sure exactly when she'll arrive, or how challenging it's going to be. All I know is that it's coming. I'm getting things done/keeping busy/resting until I get a better idea of exactly when, unmistakably, that one invisible will show up.
10.06.2008
Sore Hips
I'm 36 weeks along now, and my hips are killing me. I'm down to working from home part time these next couple weeks, because sitting upright at a desk all day is now not possible. I'm easing my way into bed rest.
But first, I'm finishing things and preparing things. I'm putting things away and gathering up my resources for a major change. My sore hips are not helping. But it makes sense that there must be physical stress around having a baby. It's a big life change, so it must feel as big, right in your gut, commensurately.
There are two distinct conditions about being at this point physically in a pregnancy. One is that I have discovered physical weaknesses that I cannot wait to address. I need to get in shape, especially if I think I'm having another baby ever. This is not easy on a girl, my friends. I think the combination of having to eat a little better for the diabetes, having to worry about Annika's nutrition, and having had to just physically BE pregnant will help motivate me to exercise and eat better. Nothing else has so far. Maybe sore hips will be the final straw.
The other condition at this point is that my body is trying to get me to wind down. That's what the sore hips are about too. My body has known things about pregnancy all along, things my brain had to go catching up on. My body has changed precisely as it's needed to. My intellectual reactions haven't always been so tolerant. It's no different now with the sore hips. It's not what I want, but I don't have much of a choice. Walking is difficult. I can't bend down and pick things up off the floor very easily. If my will must keep me going, fine. My body is even more determined to get me to stop.
Cold weather helps. It's definitely fall now, and cool outside. I still won't turn on the heat, but it's getting colder. So I'm preparing to hibernate. I'm nesting, and it's a gradual process. Getting laundry done and beds made. Stocking up on supplies. Closing up summertime and getting ready for fall and winter.
I've been seeing Annika's birth as an alarm going off when she's done cooking. I have x-number of weeks to get all of this stuff done, because the bell is going to ring and then it's done. I really wanted to schedule and plan the birth itself, so I knew exactly how much time I had. But along the way I let that go, remembering that some things just have to happen. I only just found out that the birth might have to be planned after all. That means my daughter and I have been on the same page this whole time after all. As I suspected.
But as soon as you plan one thing, something else -- like sore hips -- surprises you and makes sure you are doing only what you need to be doing in order to be ready. It also reminds you that no matter what you do, you can only be so ready.
But first, I'm finishing things and preparing things. I'm putting things away and gathering up my resources for a major change. My sore hips are not helping. But it makes sense that there must be physical stress around having a baby. It's a big life change, so it must feel as big, right in your gut, commensurately.
There are two distinct conditions about being at this point physically in a pregnancy. One is that I have discovered physical weaknesses that I cannot wait to address. I need to get in shape, especially if I think I'm having another baby ever. This is not easy on a girl, my friends. I think the combination of having to eat a little better for the diabetes, having to worry about Annika's nutrition, and having had to just physically BE pregnant will help motivate me to exercise and eat better. Nothing else has so far. Maybe sore hips will be the final straw.
The other condition at this point is that my body is trying to get me to wind down. That's what the sore hips are about too. My body has known things about pregnancy all along, things my brain had to go catching up on. My body has changed precisely as it's needed to. My intellectual reactions haven't always been so tolerant. It's no different now with the sore hips. It's not what I want, but I don't have much of a choice. Walking is difficult. I can't bend down and pick things up off the floor very easily. If my will must keep me going, fine. My body is even more determined to get me to stop.
Cold weather helps. It's definitely fall now, and cool outside. I still won't turn on the heat, but it's getting colder. So I'm preparing to hibernate. I'm nesting, and it's a gradual process. Getting laundry done and beds made. Stocking up on supplies. Closing up summertime and getting ready for fall and winter.
I've been seeing Annika's birth as an alarm going off when she's done cooking. I have x-number of weeks to get all of this stuff done, because the bell is going to ring and then it's done. I really wanted to schedule and plan the birth itself, so I knew exactly how much time I had. But along the way I let that go, remembering that some things just have to happen. I only just found out that the birth might have to be planned after all. That means my daughter and I have been on the same page this whole time after all. As I suspected.
But as soon as you plan one thing, something else -- like sore hips -- surprises you and makes sure you are doing only what you need to be doing in order to be ready. It also reminds you that no matter what you do, you can only be so ready.
9.16.2008
What Does She Have to Hide?
After originally agreeing to fully cooperate with the bipartisan committee investigating some messy potential abuses of her power as Governor of Alaska, Sarah Palin has once again enlisted her cronies to do her bidding. Now, 5 Alaska Republicans have filed suit to block the investigation.
Is this how she operates? Is this what America needs one step away from the Presidency? WHAT DOES SHE HAVE TO HIDE? I'm sorry, but if she's not been involved in any wrongdoings, she needs to get out of the way and let the investigation proceed. She's all but declaring her guilt about firing Monegan over Wooten by this new behavior.
I loathe Sarah Palin and everything she stands for, so my mind has long since been made up. But how much is enough before the rest of the electorate can see her for what she is? She's unprepared, unqualified, and dishonest. Do we need this in a Vice President? I pray that the case against her, and McCain by proxy, is only growing and gaining momentum. America, we are SCREWED if this woman and what she stands for are in charge.
The sad thing is that I think John McCain is a good guy. I don't want him to be President, as he's too old and too out of touch and too Republican for my taste. As disappointed as I would be if Obama were not elected, I think we could do worse than John McCain. But I can't stand his choice of a running mate, and the idea of him being elected in his early 70's with that bimbo the heir apparent is terrifying.
The bottom line is that we're voting for a ticket: Obama AND Biden, McCain AND Palin. She's clearly abused her power as Governor of Alaska, so we're going to give her more power? Please, for the love of God, THINK before you vote Republican. Now more than ever.
Is this how she operates? Is this what America needs one step away from the Presidency? WHAT DOES SHE HAVE TO HIDE? I'm sorry, but if she's not been involved in any wrongdoings, she needs to get out of the way and let the investigation proceed. She's all but declaring her guilt about firing Monegan over Wooten by this new behavior.
I loathe Sarah Palin and everything she stands for, so my mind has long since been made up. But how much is enough before the rest of the electorate can see her for what she is? She's unprepared, unqualified, and dishonest. Do we need this in a Vice President? I pray that the case against her, and McCain by proxy, is only growing and gaining momentum. America, we are SCREWED if this woman and what she stands for are in charge.
The sad thing is that I think John McCain is a good guy. I don't want him to be President, as he's too old and too out of touch and too Republican for my taste. As disappointed as I would be if Obama were not elected, I think we could do worse than John McCain. But I can't stand his choice of a running mate, and the idea of him being elected in his early 70's with that bimbo the heir apparent is terrifying.
The bottom line is that we're voting for a ticket: Obama AND Biden, McCain AND Palin. She's clearly abused her power as Governor of Alaska, so we're going to give her more power? Please, for the love of God, THINK before you vote Republican. Now more than ever.
A Month, A Purpose
I seriously haven't posted here in a month. I spent some time today working on a presentation about blogging, which I will present tomorrow to my team members at work. One of the major themes that kept emerging (and making me feel slightly guilty) is that blogs should be updated frequently. I've spent so much time building this site (nearly 800 posts in less than 4 years) that it seems a shame to let it languish now.
But there's another angle I learned in my blog research today too. Blogs are personal, like a diary. But they also need a purpose. The common denominator for this blog has been me: words and photos, the record of what I've been up to over time. But is that a purpose?
Unfortunately, the metaphysics of blogging, and my role as a blogger, have not been foremost on my mind. We're down to about 7 weeks, now, give or take, before Annika arrives. For 32 weeks pregnant, I feel great, but I'm tired by the end of the day. The focus now is on getting my tasks done at work before my maternity leave begins. My computer situation has also been a hassle. I've entirely given up on the laptop for dealing with photos, but the Mac isn't quite upgraded yet. Plus, it's upstairs, and not accessible from the cozy new sofa.
So, blame the sofa, the laptop, the third trimester, the preoccupation with work. I suspect as my life purpose shifts --- this time as a new mother --- I'll be back online to work through all of it in my blog-journal here. Complete with pictures.
In the meantime, I do need to post a picture of me with this belly. Annika is growing, weighs about 4 pounds, and as she grows I feel her moving more and more. I can't believe she's going to be here soon. And I can't wait.
But there's another angle I learned in my blog research today too. Blogs are personal, like a diary. But they also need a purpose. The common denominator for this blog has been me: words and photos, the record of what I've been up to over time. But is that a purpose?
Unfortunately, the metaphysics of blogging, and my role as a blogger, have not been foremost on my mind. We're down to about 7 weeks, now, give or take, before Annika arrives. For 32 weeks pregnant, I feel great, but I'm tired by the end of the day. The focus now is on getting my tasks done at work before my maternity leave begins. My computer situation has also been a hassle. I've entirely given up on the laptop for dealing with photos, but the Mac isn't quite upgraded yet. Plus, it's upstairs, and not accessible from the cozy new sofa.
So, blame the sofa, the laptop, the third trimester, the preoccupation with work. I suspect as my life purpose shifts --- this time as a new mother --- I'll be back online to work through all of it in my blog-journal here. Complete with pictures.
In the meantime, I do need to post a picture of me with this belly. Annika is growing, weighs about 4 pounds, and as she grows I feel her moving more and more. I can't believe she's going to be here soon. And I can't wait.
8.14.2008
Butterball Turkey Timer
Not to gross anyone out --- but seriously, suck it up because it's only going to get gorier from here folks. As I was saying, I don't want to gross anyone out, but the ol' belly button is about to go from an inny to an outy. Any day now. I'm thinking of starting a pool to see when it goes. Unfortunately, unlike the turkey, when the button pops, it doesn't mean the baby's done cooking.
The Sugar
I found out early last week that I have "the sugar" --- also known as diabetes. Sometimes just referred to as "having sugar." Family history and a childish love for Pop-Tarts caught up to me, and I developed gestational diabetes. The good news is that it goes away with the placenta, which is what's blocking my body's effective use of insulin. The bad news is that I'm a milk-and-cookies kind of gal and along with smoking, sushi, red wine, and various other vices, I'm now off the sweets too. And I have to test my blood sugar 4 times a day.
However, the difference with having to change my diet now is that I felt miserable. No sooner did the aggravated back injury start to mend did I fall into a sugar stupor. I knew for a couple weeks before the diagnosis that I was diabetic. My thirst was insatiable, and a butterscotch-chip muffin during a morning meeting literally had me hallucinating. I was tired all the time, peeing all the time, and simply out of sorts.
Now, I feel better. Cheating last night and eating both Pop-Tarts and a huge glass of milk caused me to sleep poorly last night, have a hard time waking up this morning, and have a too-high fasting blood sugar reading of 109 when I woke up. Despite my sweet tooth, it's just not worth it.
Beyond even how I feel is the impact on Annika. High levels of glucose in my blood cause high levels in hers, but she can't benefit from my insulin and has to make her own. All that extra insulin is like a growth hormone for the fetus in utero, and she can pack on even more weight than she's already going to in these final weeks.
And honestly, that was the hardest part of finding out about the diabetes. I know I'm going to be fine, but I felt this tremendous guilt about not having eaten better, and having potentially put her at risk. I barely held it together that first day at work before coming home and crying bitterly, and I couldn't talk about the baby for a couple days without choking right up. With everything that's gone on this year, I seriously felt like I couldn't handle one more thing. But it had to be managed, and managing the condition is making a difference for both of us.
However, the difference with having to change my diet now is that I felt miserable. No sooner did the aggravated back injury start to mend did I fall into a sugar stupor. I knew for a couple weeks before the diagnosis that I was diabetic. My thirst was insatiable, and a butterscotch-chip muffin during a morning meeting literally had me hallucinating. I was tired all the time, peeing all the time, and simply out of sorts.
Now, I feel better. Cheating last night and eating both Pop-Tarts and a huge glass of milk caused me to sleep poorly last night, have a hard time waking up this morning, and have a too-high fasting blood sugar reading of 109 when I woke up. Despite my sweet tooth, it's just not worth it.
Beyond even how I feel is the impact on Annika. High levels of glucose in my blood cause high levels in hers, but she can't benefit from my insulin and has to make her own. All that extra insulin is like a growth hormone for the fetus in utero, and she can pack on even more weight than she's already going to in these final weeks.
And honestly, that was the hardest part of finding out about the diabetes. I know I'm going to be fine, but I felt this tremendous guilt about not having eaten better, and having potentially put her at risk. I barely held it together that first day at work before coming home and crying bitterly, and I couldn't talk about the baby for a couple days without choking right up. With everything that's gone on this year, I seriously felt like I couldn't handle one more thing. But it had to be managed, and managing the condition is making a difference for both of us.
The World Loves a Pregnant Woman
At 29 weeks, I'm looking rather pregnant these days. In the past several weeks, I've moved into the realm of the obviously pregnant and away from the maybe-she-just-had-a-large-meal look of the early days.
Of course, I've had the last 5 months to get used to my state, so it came as a surprise when people started to react to me as a pregnant woman. I remember very clearly the first day when it hit me, which was June 27, the day of the double closings, the move, and the escaped cat debacle. I went to Petco that evening and a salesgirl literally yanked a 21-pound box of cat litter out of my hands and carried it to the front for me. Immediately afterward, at Whole Foods, a bagger insisted on carrying my groceries out for me, and seemed incredulous when I declined.
The kindness and goodwill has only increased along with my girth. People fall over themselves to hold doors for me. They comment on my pregnancy, ask how I'm feeling, and smile a lot. Some can't resist the urge to pat my belly, then seem a little sheepish for having done so.
For my part, I don't mind if people touch the Buddha. Typically independent to the point of being to my own detriment, I'm alright with people diving in front of the closing elevator or hauling my groceries. More than anything, I'm grateful for the repeated demonstrations of humanity that my pregnancy has engendered. I only wish that that were the rule, rather than the exception.
Of course, I've had the last 5 months to get used to my state, so it came as a surprise when people started to react to me as a pregnant woman. I remember very clearly the first day when it hit me, which was June 27, the day of the double closings, the move, and the escaped cat debacle. I went to Petco that evening and a salesgirl literally yanked a 21-pound box of cat litter out of my hands and carried it to the front for me. Immediately afterward, at Whole Foods, a bagger insisted on carrying my groceries out for me, and seemed incredulous when I declined.
The kindness and goodwill has only increased along with my girth. People fall over themselves to hold doors for me. They comment on my pregnancy, ask how I'm feeling, and smile a lot. Some can't resist the urge to pat my belly, then seem a little sheepish for having done so.
For my part, I don't mind if people touch the Buddha. Typically independent to the point of being to my own detriment, I'm alright with people diving in front of the closing elevator or hauling my groceries. More than anything, I'm grateful for the repeated demonstrations of humanity that my pregnancy has engendered. I only wish that that were the rule, rather than the exception.
7.31.2008
Home Inspection at the New Pad, 2nd Edition
Original post, 5/20/08
Aaron and I had the inspection on the new house on Wednesday afternoon. Here he is waving to me from the kitchen while I was outside shooting pictures of the backyard.
I shot 160 pictures, documenting damn near everything in it.
I originally posted pictures of the yard, bathrooms, and kitchen, but the current owners found them and have asked that I not post any pictures of the house while they still own it. Fair enough. I feel like I was extremely careful to respect their privacy by not mentioning the address, their names, or showing any of their personal belongings. But privacy is by no means an absolute concept, and different people have different thresholds.
Once we own the house (and only if we do ultimately own the house), will I restore the original posts.
Postscript, 7/31/08: Well, we own the house, so back online go my posts. I promised to take them down, and I promised I'd post them again once the damned closing was all done. So here we are. Each post from May 20 is reposted here with a postscript in this format. Once the house is ready, I'll post before-and-after images. First priority, Annika's room.
Aaron and I had the inspection on the new house on Wednesday afternoon. Here he is waving to me from the kitchen while I was outside shooting pictures of the backyard.
I shot 160 pictures, documenting damn near everything in it.
I originally posted pictures of the yard, bathrooms, and kitchen, but the current owners found them and have asked that I not post any pictures of the house while they still own it. Fair enough. I feel like I was extremely careful to respect their privacy by not mentioning the address, their names, or showing any of their personal belongings. But privacy is by no means an absolute concept, and different people have different thresholds.
Once we own the house (and only if we do ultimately own the house), will I restore the original posts.
Postscript, 7/31/08: Well, we own the house, so back online go my posts. I promised to take them down, and I promised I'd post them again once the damned closing was all done. So here we are. Each post from May 20 is reposted here with a postscript in this format. Once the house is ready, I'll post before-and-after images. First priority, Annika's room.
Heinous Pink Bathroom
Original post, 5/20/08:
I'm very excited about the new house, but I'm really worried about the stupid pink bathroom. I feel like I'm inside a stomach whenever I turn the light on in there. Aaron assures me that we can gut the damned thing at some point, but I'm torn between trying to make it work, and trying to figure out the exact quantity of plastic explosives it would take to obliterate the pinkness without damaging the adjacent rooms.
This room reminds me of the old adage about taking one thing off before you leave the house. Pink floors, pink walls and shower and tub, pink sink, pink toilet. W.T.F.??? Here are the "highlights", God help us.
These built-ins are really the best feature.
The sink is so old it's actually interesting, with a built-in faucet spout between the hot and cold water taps. But it's too close to the color of the walls without being close enough. Again, if it were just the sink, or just the walls, it might not be so offensive.
Bad lighting, yes, and my computer is being a douche-bag so I can't edit anything in PhotoShop. But seriously, no amount of PhotoShop could diminish the pinketude.
The fish cover on the toilet seat indicates the decor is geared more toward a kid than an adult. But if an 8 year-old girl needs to tone down the pink, there's clearly an overdose going on.
The floor is actually not so terrible, but it's got a big crack in the middle of it further into the room so it's gotta go.
A detail of the Pepto-Bismol-on-Salmon two-tone tile goodness. It's actually a very professional tile job.
That said, we might actually keep the wall tile, which extends into the shower surround as well. A white tub cover, a new white toilet, white pedestal sink, small white hexagonal tile on the floor, and some new wall color might just work. Believe it or not, I'm thinking chocolate brown. I know pink and chocolate brown are ultra-trendy right now, but seriously, if you can think of something better, I'm totally open to ideas. The advantage to doing brown paint and accents like towels or a shower curtain is that it's easily changed later. The fixtures will be neutral enough and the wall tile keeps a reference to the 1950's vintage of the house. We'll replace the light fixtures and the medicine cabinet too.
Postscript, 7/31/08: God help me, I've made the pink bathroom work. I need to snap some pix and post once it's done, but the brown is REALLY helping. Brown valances, brown shower curtain, wooden bathmat, brown towels, large natural dark wood woven trash can, etc. I think we'll hold off on brown paint, as the white is working. Just need some art on the walls and I can handle it. For now.
I'm very excited about the new house, but I'm really worried about the stupid pink bathroom. I feel like I'm inside a stomach whenever I turn the light on in there. Aaron assures me that we can gut the damned thing at some point, but I'm torn between trying to make it work, and trying to figure out the exact quantity of plastic explosives it would take to obliterate the pinkness without damaging the adjacent rooms.
This room reminds me of the old adage about taking one thing off before you leave the house. Pink floors, pink walls and shower and tub, pink sink, pink toilet. W.T.F.??? Here are the "highlights", God help us.
These built-ins are really the best feature.
The sink is so old it's actually interesting, with a built-in faucet spout between the hot and cold water taps. But it's too close to the color of the walls without being close enough. Again, if it were just the sink, or just the walls, it might not be so offensive.
Bad lighting, yes, and my computer is being a douche-bag so I can't edit anything in PhotoShop. But seriously, no amount of PhotoShop could diminish the pinketude.
The fish cover on the toilet seat indicates the decor is geared more toward a kid than an adult. But if an 8 year-old girl needs to tone down the pink, there's clearly an overdose going on.
The floor is actually not so terrible, but it's got a big crack in the middle of it further into the room so it's gotta go.
A detail of the Pepto-Bismol-on-Salmon two-tone tile goodness. It's actually a very professional tile job.
That said, we might actually keep the wall tile, which extends into the shower surround as well. A white tub cover, a new white toilet, white pedestal sink, small white hexagonal tile on the floor, and some new wall color might just work. Believe it or not, I'm thinking chocolate brown. I know pink and chocolate brown are ultra-trendy right now, but seriously, if you can think of something better, I'm totally open to ideas. The advantage to doing brown paint and accents like towels or a shower curtain is that it's easily changed later. The fixtures will be neutral enough and the wall tile keeps a reference to the 1950's vintage of the house. We'll replace the light fixtures and the medicine cabinet too.
Postscript, 7/31/08: God help me, I've made the pink bathroom work. I need to snap some pix and post once it's done, but the brown is REALLY helping. Brown valances, brown shower curtain, wooden bathmat, brown towels, large natural dark wood woven trash can, etc. I think we'll hold off on brown paint, as the white is working. Just need some art on the walls and I can handle it. For now.
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