It all started innocently enough. Doesn't it always? Me lying on the bed watching that blasted ceiling fan go around and around--the fan, which inexplicably is styled in a very 80's style. (A real mystery since the house was built in 1994.)

"I hate that fan." I said. "I mean, I like fans enough. But that is one ugly-ass fan."

"What would we replace it with?" he was dumb enough to ask.

Before he knew what had hit him we were off to Big Orange Box (BOB) to look at sleeker, modern ceiling fans.

Five hours and seven power tools later, we had a cherry wood and brushed nickel ceiling fan installed. It is sleek and quiet, and efficient. I lurve it.

The next day...

"I'm really tired of the color on these walls." I said. "I mean, it's starting to look faded over there, and that corner is worn off, and after two years, don't you think it's time we changed from this Chinese Red color to something that we chose?

Off to BOB again, to look at paint colors. Brown Teepee
(a warm medium taupe) for the bedroom with Restful (a beautiful green) for the bathroom.

Said he to me this evening: "How hard do you think it would be to tear out that soffit in the bathroom and replace those dated can lights with some better fixtures?"

I've created a monster!