and my hallway. And in case you thought I was just an incredible Do-it-Yourselfer, well think again. A friend of a friend is painting for me.
I don't do paint.
This might be the lamest blog post I ever wrote and is perhaps a scary harbinger for when my boys leave home and I walk the hallways, blue, and a moon, worn as if it had been a shell becomes a design blog and Sophie just hums from her room that I keep painting over and over, or have painted over and over and I sip wine and wheat beer and nibble on chocolate covered pretzels and jellybeans of old.