Creating my happy life on the other side of fear.

Thursday, 30 March 2017

He found his homies

We didn't see or hear anything of him for two full days. 
The first day, we kept driving around, hoping to see him. He's pure white, which is easy to spot in the current brown background. 
But, nothing. 

We thought he was a goner, eaten by coyotes. 

But then, we got a phone call last night, from an unknown number. Thankfully, Rich isn't a call screener like I am, because I never pick up calls from people I don't know (and half the time, I won't pick them up from people I do know - I'm not a phone person).  

The caller told us that they were pretty sure our ram had joined their herd of young cows. "There's a white sheep running with our heifers. Could he be yours?" 

Since the herd was grazing just down the road from, chances were high that he was. 

We jumped into the car and drove down there. 

The farmer was waiting for us, picture-perfect in his gum boots, plaid shirt, jean jacket and John Deere cap. He pointed towards the herd. 
"Is that him?"

Sure enough, it was. 

I apologise for the quality of the photos. They're crappy beyond belief, I know. 
I only had my cellphone with me, and we were pretty far away. 

We did go inside the field, newly-purchased net in hand, to capture our runaway. I had my phone out, ready to document the whole episode for the blog. 
But as soon as I tried to venture away from Rich, he sharply told me to stay with him. "These guys can kill you!" he warned me. "They will stampede you to death."
What?! They were barely a year old!

"Herds like that have killed people before," my husband informed me, still striding confidently towards these so-called killers. I hurried after him, staying as close as humanly possible. I didn't know anything about cows; but why, if they were that dangerous, were we walking amongst them??

"They know I'm not afraid of them, we're safe," he assured me, periodically raising his arms threateningly and chasing the more curious/brave/aggressive(?) cows away. 

By now, I had pretty much forgotten about our teenage runaway. All I cared about was getting as far away from the cows as possible.
Not so my farmer-husband. He really tried to catch our sheep boy, but it was hopeless.

He's a clever boy: He realized that he would be safe with a big herd of cattle, and had somehow managed to get accepted by them as one of their own. He ran right in the middle of them, protected from all sides.  

We gave up in the end. The farmer told us we could try to catch him when they moved the herd to another pasture, which will happen in about three weeks. 

We checked on him today; he seems perfectly fine. Talk about adjusting to your surroundings! This guy has it figured out to a T.    

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Sunday, 26 March 2017

It would be relaxing, they said. It would be FUN.

Guys, I'm exhausted. It's not even 5pm, and I'm contemplating to go to bed. Yes, it was one of those days. 
Let me paint you a picture: 
This morning I slept in longer than usual. By the time I got up, it was almost 9am, and instead of having coffee first (which is what I should have done), I made the fatal decision to "quickly go outside and feed the horses (and the cows, sheep, goats, and llamas)". There I was, stumbling around like a drunk, because not only was I still half asleep, I also forgot to put on my glasses, so everything was blurry. 
I threw some hay to the horses, let the dogs out, and then made my way to the cow pasture. There, outside the fence, was Norman.  

"Norman, how did you get out?" I asked him in dismay. He's our baby, a 7 months-old bull calf, and a typical teenager. He just looked at me, mooing softly. I took this to meaning that he was ready to join the herd again. 

"Come on, you little rascal," I said, opened the gate and tried to shoo him in. 

Enter Nina. 

See how Nina was stalking Nick a couple of weeks ago? 
Well, she was doing the same to Norman this morning. He bolted, and before I could close the gate, so did Nick (the horse) and Polly (one of the cows - not the mom) - they ran right past me, and I swear, they gave me the finger as they streaked past.  
Now everyone was in a tizzy: Mama Molly mooed for her calf, Gabi mooed because she's vocal and an asshole, and Norman mooed because he wanted to go back to mama. 

I cursed. Remember, I hadn't had a single sip of coffee yet - but I also wasn't tired any more. My blood was pumping, and adrenaline was flowing!

I fed the goats (they were screaming their little hearts out as well, naturally) and the sheep, and then I tried to catch the escapees. I did get the horse and put him back on the pasture. But the cows were hopeless. Until I learn to lasso like our farrier, there was no hope that I would catch them.

I trudged inside, and informed Rich about everything that was going on. He was unconcerned - "we will get them later". I finally got to drink my coffee, and relaxed. 

Too soon, as it turned out. 

When Rich joined me in the dining room, he spied our young ram who escaped yesterday. 
Oh, have I not mentioned him?

Here's what happened:   
One of our teenaged boy sheep scaled a 4-foot gate yesterday and escaped his enclosure. 

We saw him booking it to the barn, and Rich and I bolted after him. However, we still don't have a sheep-proof fence, so he simply ducked under it and ran over to the neighbour's place, Rich and I in hot pursuit. We cornered him behind a car, I chased him around towards Rich - and the sheep boy jumped up, hit Rich in the head, and kept running.   
We tried a few more times, but to no avail. 

This morning, when we saw him again, we jumped on our ATV and tried to catch him. 
The fun part was that the entire neighbourhood got to watch: He ran through several neighbour's properties, startling their horses and other livestock, and we followed him by darting in and out of people's driveways, cutting through their yards and fields and pastures. 

Long story short: We didn't get him. I blame the lack of proper fencing around here, they are not sheep-proof at all. As I said to Rich: "I want a wall, and I want you to pay for it."

We haven't given up yet: He's still around, and with a proper net (or something), we'll hopefully get him.   
What an exhausting way to spend a Sunday. 

But on the bright side, we did reunite Norman and Polly with the other two cows!
Three down, one to go. We can do this. 


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Thursday, 23 March 2017

Wild and free

Yesterday, I finally put the winter coats away. It's a ritual I treasure: I go through the pockets, relieving them of the detritus that has accumulated throughout the winter: Old receipts, crumpled tissues, some dog treats, usually at least one $5.00- or $10.00-bill (always in Rich's pockets, but now in mine - finder's keepers), the odd bullet, a dried-up gummy bear (that one surprised me the most; how did I not eat it?). I wash them all, air-dry them, and then they get ceremoniously folded and put away for the next six months. If I'm in the mood, I may even make a short speech: "See ya later, suckers!" or something along those lines. 

Along with the winter coats come the warm boots, woolly mittens, lined gloves, and an assortment of fuzzy and furry hats. 
And just like that, I feel free

As much as I liked this last winter, with its glittering snow and brilliant blue skies, nothing can replace the feeling of the first warm rays of sunshine on your skin in the spring. 

Something in me shifts. 
It's like I'm finding back to my true self, after having been lost in lazy-land. 
Suddenly, I'm full of energy! My body wants to move again, after having been sluggish for months, and I'm rearing to go.  

I'm walking again, even though it's all hills in our new neighbourhood (rats). I'm not fond of hills, but I guess I have to get used to it. 
And the difference it makes is astonishing: Better sleep, calmer mind, more energy. Plus, Lily and I are bonding even more (I didn't think that's possible, but there you go), and for that I would climb mountains! Well, I am, so you can take that literally. 

I'm also finally, finally practising yoga daily again. My body and mind miss it when I don't. 
Yet, I still go regularly through those phases where I only do it halfheartedly. (Those phases are called winter. Still, it's no excuse.) 
We humans have got to be the weirdest life form on earth. 
Even if we know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, what's good for us - what makes us happy, relaxed, strong, calm, and all the other good stuff - we will stop doing it.  Again and again. 

Because we are lazy. Or we make up insane reasons in our mind why we can't do it (too busy; too tired; more important things to do; better things to do ← that one kills me; I'm such an idiot).  

But, as Buddha says: 

“Every morning we are born again. What we do today is what matters most.”

Let's focus on what we can do today, and forget about the mistakes from yesterday.

I often think that I'm less of a yogi, and more of a nature-worshipper. While I try to practice yoga inside - the true joy of yoga for me is only experienced in nature. Feeling the wind in my hair, the earth under my feet, smelling the bush and listening to bird song - there is nothing like it. That's what makes my soul sing. 

And our season is just beginning! We have six glorious months of outdoor practice ahead of us! I'm so excited for it.  

Happy Spring!


Tuesday, 21 March 2017

4 Years of Blogging

This blog turned 4 years old on March 15, but blog years are like dog years, so it's actually 35 years old. (Side note: Did you know that the first year of a dog's life counts double? Instead of being the equivalent of 7 years, it's 14. I read that once, and it made so much sense to me, I adopted this way of thinking. After all, the rate we mature at during puberty is breathtaking; it slows waaaaay down once we've reached our twenties.)

Girlfriend (=blog) and I are roughly the same age, and we both can relate to each other. We know what it feels like to have had all those wild, crazy dreams when we were younger - we thought by the time we reached our thirties we would be rich and famous, living with our private chef/marketing director (respectively) in our huge mansion/magazine-style website (respectively), being adored by thousands of fans.

Hahaha, just joking.

Here we are, 37 and 35 years old (respectively), living in comfortable, yet modest homes (minemy blog's), and we're happy as clams.
Small is the new big, haven't you heard?

In terms of numbers, I did something not very smart: In September, I deleted my commenting widget Disqus, because I've had some problems with it. Inadvertently, I deleted about 1,500 of reader comments, because they weren't synced with my blog. Yikes! That's why it looks like so many of my posts have no comments, because they were deleted. I was devastated, but couldn't figure out a way to get them back.
The long and short of it is, I have no idea how many comments I got over the last year; overall, comments have drastically reduced in blogland, because so many people have shifted their attention away from blogs to Instagram and Snapchat.

But, I still have some numbers for you: 818 posts, 2180 followers, and over 327000 page views.

In what has become tradition, let's take a look at the last 12 months of my life and blog (here are my 3rd anniversary2nd anniversary, and 1st anniversary posts):

We went on a Caribbean cruise last March, which meant a tan for me, photos of palm trees for social media, and a vacation video for the blog. I posted 16 times during the month, which was a normal average for me then, but not any more. These days it's only 2-3 times per week, since I'm doing so much writing for the book.

Most popular post of the month: Kiss me, I'm Irish (190 page views).
My personal favourite post was Not being yourself?, which talks about depression, finding yourself, and finding your purpose.

April was a tough month, because my beloved dog Snowy passed away suddenly.
A week before it happened, I made a video of A day in the life, and it was a very happy day; life can be a damn roller coaster.
However, some other good stuff happened: I did one of my rare blog collaborations, this one with Preciousy, a company dedicated to help elephants.
A huge highlight for me was meeting my yoga idol Kino MacGregor. She was teaching an Ashtanga workshop in Vancouver, and I took a class with her, the complete First series of Ashtanga yoga. It was hard, sweaty, and amazing. I love her.
I also went to Germany for a quick trip, because my grandma wasn't doing well; thankfully, she recovered.

Most popular post of the month: Tips for your yoga home practice (304 page views)

The best thing that happened was the arrival of a new dog: Tom Snow joined our family! Getting him helped me a lot easing the pain of losing Snowy. He's so affectionate and loving, we couldn't ask for a better dog. 
On the blog, I did a before and after comparison yoga post. Those are always fun to do, and satisfying to look back on. At that point, I had practiced yoga regularly for 14 months; now it has been two years!
Other than Tom Snow joining the family, May was blah. I escaped the dull reality by dreaming, and writing a post about that dream, a post that became a weird foreshadowing of things to come: Of selling the house, moving into the wilderness "but still only a 15-minute drive to shops, restaurants and medical help if we need it". It's tongue-in-cheek and exaggerated, but still - many elements of that dream have come true. The universe is wild! 

Most popular post of the month: Abbey Road (193 page views)

In an ironic twist of fate, I finally tackled the challenging project of painting the kitchen cupboards of our old house. Ironic, because about 5 minutes after it was done, we made the sudden decision to put our house on the market. If I had known, I probably wouldn't have done it ... but at least I can tell myself that it helped to sell the house (even though I don't think it made a lick of difference).
I also came across one of my all-time favourite quotes and incorporated it in my post Breaking free: Breaking free from chasing perfection, from letting imperfections ruin your day, from not doing things because you think you are not good enough or don't look perfect enough.
Rich and I went flying in a tiny plane, which was amazing.

Most popular post of the month: Fashion rules I love to break (288 page views)

My mother-in-law came for a three-week visit in July. She's 82 years old and pretty set in her ways, and I'm always astonished and amused by how different she and Rich are from each other. We had some difficulties in the early years, but over the years we have found our groove, and usually these visits are pretty harmonious. Still, I'm not mad about our families living so far away ;-)
For most of last year, I struggled with job dissatisfaction, and I wrote about it several times. In July it was this post: How to get your mojo back. The sad thing about it is that I have always adored my job, and love many of my co-workers. But the general atmosphere had become toxic, and affected many of us.

July was also the month where we made the decision to change our life pretty drastically, and I hinted about the upcoming changes in the post Scary dreams.
Four days later, I elaborated, and it became the most-read post of the month.

Most popular post of the month: So - what's been going on? (557 page views)

August was all about house hunting. I documented each excursion, and had a ton of fun writing these posts: 
Oh, I was also given a free yoga wheel from YogDev, a Vancouver-based yoga-props company, and did a giveaway.

Most popular post of the month: Property hunting, vol. 4 (309 page views)

September was all about house selling. I wrote about The 7 stages of selling your house, and about a mistake we almost made
I cut off a good chunk of my hair, which was more unsettling than I had expected
Inspired by all the changes in my life, I contemplated a name change for the blog, but ultimately decided that Farm Girl is here to stay. 

Most popular post of the month: Property hunting, vol. 5: THE FINAL CHAPTER (274 page views)

October was all about packing. After some last-minute drama, we sold our place, and then the decluttering, organizing, and packing started. It really started to sink in that we had reached the end of an era.  
We also had another visitor for two weeks, Rich's friend Karl-Heinz from Germany. Him and I got into a fight, which wasn't great. I also struggled with depression throughout the month, and was quite emotional. Change is hard.
Oh, and I won a writing contest! I was thrilled about that. 

Most popular post of the month: Dancing on sunshine (177 page views)

Ugh, remember November? Trump won the election, and the entire world was stunned. It was an event so shocking, it was impossible to ignore, and I wrote a post about the morning after
Our personal life was more cheerful: We took possession of our new house, and I showed you guys what it looked like inside. Then we started with the long, complicated moving process, and I was, once again, an emotional mess. What a roller coaster!

Most popular post of the month: A rambling, personal post (427 page views)

December was wonderful. Easily one of the best months of last year, which is saying something, since it's usually one of my least favourite. We got a ton of snow, and we were enchanted by the winter wonderland we found ourselves in. We were both high on life, loving our new place hard, and pinching ourselves daily to make sure this wasn't a dream.  
I finished off the year at my old job, and tried out two AirBnBs: The first one with mixed success, but the second one a total winner. I went to three separate goodbye parties that my awesome co-coworkers threw for me, spent Christmas Eve at our oldest friends' house, and Christmas Day at another dear friend's house, and felt cocooned in a layer of love and happiness. Like I said, it was a very special month.  

Most popular post of the month: A house tour! (276 page views)

I started out the new year on the high I was still on from December. This post is full of energy, enthusiasm and optimism, and it made me smile reading it. The first day of a new year is magical, don't you think? You believe anything is possible. 
In that spirit, I started a weekly newsletter, wanting to send you a ray of sunshine and optimism in your inbox every Monday morning. I write about life's ups and downs, about believing in yourself, and about chasing your dreams like it's nobody's business. I love writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it!
I didn't work in January, and my days were spent writing, hanging with the animals, and getting adjusted to the immense cold and our new town. It was a month that felt like taking a vacation from reality, which was great. 

Most popular post of the month: A dozen years (243 page views) ← πŸ’•It was our wedding anniversary!πŸ’•

February was eventful: I found a casual job at the local hospital. I got punched in the face. Rich bought miniature cows. I went for a job interview for another job - and didn't get it. Lily got caught in a snare trap. I read like a woman possessed, because books are everything (and every writer is a passionate reader). I also had a little crisis, because the high from December and January couldn't last forever. 

Most popular post of the month: I never thought I would ... (183 page views)

Blogging for four years. When I sat down for the first time on the early evening of March 15, 2013, penning my very first blog post, I would have never thought that 4 years later, I would still be at it. 
I didn't turn out at all how I expected - instead of creating an online photo album, as I had expected, I created a tool that helped me find myself. My blogging journey has really been a journey into myself, discovering the person I am.

I was a shy child who grew into an insecure teenager, and then an anxious young woman, desperate to be liked by others. I measured my self-worth by how much other people liked me. 
Despite being 33 years old when I started blogging, I had astonishingly little self-awareness. I had this picture in my mind of the person I wanted to be: Outgoing, fun, confident, popular, the life of the party. I wanted to be the kind of girl who could strike up a conversation with anyone, despite being the exact opposite. I also thought I had to be a great cook, a nurturing, motherly person (I'm a woman, after all), and have a perfect body to go with it all. 
In short, I still believed in the illusion of having to be perfect in order to be liked.  

Blogging helped me overcome that bullshit notion. It exposed me to different ways of life, to people who chose a path outside the norm. I found people who would tell their whole story: Not only the highlights, but also their failures, their doubts and insecurities, and ways in which their life didn't turn out how they expected it to.*

*Of course, there are plenty of blog who only share the highly edited version of their lives - but if you search long enough, you will find the raw jewels in between. 

In a world of Facebook highlight reels and social media perfection, where even friends think they have to make their life look glossier than it is, this was a revelation to me. 

Writing hundreds of thousands of words has been an amazing therapy. It helped me make sense of the chaos in between my ears. Writing my muddled thoughts down has shown me who I really am - and in the course of getting to know myself, I first grew to like her - and then, to love her. 

I never saw that one coming. 

If there is one lesson I have taken away from my blogging journey, it is this: 
Start before you're ready. Do it even if you don't know if you can do it. 

You never know what might happen!

As always, I want to thank you, my dear readers. Without you, this blog wouldn't be what it is: My online home, my happy place. 
You make this blogging gig worthwhile and fun, and I love you so much for it. 



Saturday, 18 March 2017

I'm alive!

Whoa, what happened to the last week? I just realized that the last post I published is from eight days ago, but I could swear it was just yesterday. Time is weird, isn't it?

I thought I better let you know that I'm still alive and well, and I want to go back over the last week to try to figure out what I actually did every day. 

The tail end of winter is hard on everyone. Not just us humans, who crave warmth and flowers and patio drinking, but especially wildlife. 

We went on a little drive last week for a much-needed change of scenery. Plus, I was on the hunt for a sign of spring: A crocus, cherry blossoms, daffodils, anything. While we didn't find any blossoms, we found wild horses:

They were walking along the road, unimpressed by our approaching car. We slowed down to a stop, and watched them first walk towards us, and then past us. 
They looked old and tired, and in even more need of spring than us. As you can see, there's still some snow where we saw them, but it's melting fast now - I hope they'll find lots of fresh grass soon!

On Wednesday, we went to Vancouver to visit a close friend in the hospital. Many of our friends are older than Rich, often by ten or more years, like this one. Watching them age and getting sick is heartbreaking, and a reminder that life is precious and short. We have to make the very best of it!
That also reminds me of a quote Taylor used in her recent post When My Blog Became My Job:

"Why spend your entire life working on a painting you don't want to look at?" -Warren Buffet

Do what makes you happy, and drop the shit that doesn't!

In that spirit, I have decided to turn our house into a rainbow, one room at a time. Bright colours make me happy! After painting one bedroom pink and the other one orange, I added a mermaid-esque turquoise to the mix:

I just finished it yesterday, and I'm really happy with how it turned out. 

But the main reason why I have been MIA on the blog, is that I'm currently in a heavy reading phase. I'm devouring books like they're going out of style!

I rounded up five books I love in a recent post, but have since found a few more to add to the list:

"The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the last True Hermit". It's the fascinating true story of how Christopher Knight disappeared into the woods when he was 20 years old, and lived there alone for 27 years. In all this time, he only encountered one single person while on a hike, and all he said was "hi". Instead of hunting or fishing, his mode of survival was stealing, and he broke into nearby cabins to steal everything he needed: Food, clothes, books, toiletries, sleeping bags, tents, even a TV, and thousands of batteries over the years. When he was finally caught, he had committed over 1,000 burglaries. The journalist Michael Finkel conducted extensive interviews with Knight, and wrote a spellbinding book about what motivated him to leave the world behind and how he survived all by himself for such a long time. 

Currently, I'm reading another one of Finkel's books,  "True Story: Murder, Memoir, Mea Culpa". 
It's another true story, this time about Christian Longo. In 2001, his wife and three children were found murdered, and he had disappeared. He took on Michael Finkel's identity and hid in Mexico, where he was picked up by the FBI three weeks later and arrested for the suspected murder of his family. 
The real Michael Finkel got in touch, and they developed a bizarre friendship, exchanging dozens of letters and talking on the phone once a week for over a year. In the beginning, Longo denied the murders and swore that he was innocent. 

The book was made into a movie, here is the trailer:

It's another fascinating read!

I didn't realize it until today, but a few days ago my blog turned 4! Every year I do a celebratory "walk down memory lane"-post, and I will do it again this time. Until then, you can take a look at my previous ones:

That was my week. How was yours?

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Thursday, 9 March 2017

Finding your style

When I went back to school to become an x-ray technologist, I had just turned 28, and I was in a style crisis. 
Throughout my life, I have experimented with all sorts of different styles: girly, tomboyish, outdoorsy forest gal, the "I-want-to-hide-my-body" phase (less style, more major body crisis), gypsy (for an entire summer, I wore nothing but long skirts and tiny white tees), and always, in between, the "whatever-makes-me-look-skinny" approach to clothes. 

Before I decided on x-ray school, I had a couple of misguided years where I dappled in the hospitality industry. During that time, I bought myself four blazers and two pantsuits, the only time I ever owned (and wore) said items. I kept one grey, pin-striped blazed until about a year ago, "just in case" I would need it. After not having worn it for seven years in a row, I concluded that I could safely give it away to someone who would get more use out of it. 

Okay, coming back to x-ray school now. Like I said, I was 28 years old, and I had no clue how to dress. Having just disregarded the blazers and button-down shirts, I reverted back to the last time I was in school, and wore jeans and hoodies almost every single day. It may be practical, but stylish it was not. 

One girl in my class didn't have that problem. In a time when skinny jeans were just emerging again (it was the year 2008), she had been wearing them for years. And not just in basic blue and black: She had them in bright red, bottle green, and a pale pink I couldn't get enough of. 
She also wore booties long before they were trendy; I particularly remember a fringed, Western-inspired pair that was so unique that I overcame my shyness and asked her where she had bought them. 
"LA," she said nonchalantly, making me feel even more in awe of her worldliness. 

I didn't embrace skinnies until two years later, being one of the last ones to jump on the train. I was in the last stages of my "I-wear-whatever-makes-me-look-skinny" phase, and I was convinced that nothing would make my legs look slimmer than bootlegs. Skinny jeans would only accentuate my "problem areas" butt and thighs!

Thankfully, I have outgrown my body insecurities over the last four (or so) years, and dress in what makes me feel good, not skinny.  
These days, I would describe my style as bohemian-casual, with a touch of country (the country influence is getting stronger!). I still love dresses and skirts, but jeans (especially skinny ones) will always be a staple in my wardrobe. Jeans are a farmgirl's best friend!

The fun part about fashion and style is that it's always evolving. I haven't "arrived" at my style destination yet, and maybe I never will - trying new things is just too much fun!

Shirt: Work'n Play (a local store)
Skinnies: American Eagle (similar)
Booties: I bought them used from Instagram, they are originally from Uxibal
They are my new fave shoes! 

How would you describe your style?


Tuesday, 7 March 2017

Lost in a confusion of colours

Guys, I feel like I have been stuck in a bizarre purgatory, and I just emerged today, gasping for air, blinking in the sudden light of day. 
For the past four days, I've been all-consumed by the frustrating search for the right colour. 

I stopped doing yoga. 
I stopped showering.  
I stopped social media. (Kinda.)
I stopped writing. 
I stopped eating. (Bahahaha, just messing with ya - it takes way more than that to make me stop eating!)
It was all about the colour - I needed to find the right COLOUR*!

*For our bedroom/my office.

Let's start at the beginning. 
On the last day of February, I made a little list of things I want to accomplish in March. I'm partial to lists, because they make me at least 67% more successful in accomplishing my goals. 
Be it because I get an unreasonable amount of satisfaction from crossing items off the list, or be it that I'm so scatterbrained, I lose track of my goals if I don't write them down - I made the list, and I was motivated

First item: To paint our home. I've wanted to paint the walls of our new(ish) (is it still considered "new" after 3+ months? To me, it is) home since the day we moved in, but I procrastinated for three important reasons:
1. I'm lazy. 
2. I know how much work it is, and how much cursing painting will involve (which is sort of an extenuation of the above point I already made - but more eloquently, no?). 
3. I didn't know what colour to paint it in. 

Now, I've been heavily influenced by the ladies from A Beautiful Mess, and I partially blame them for my indecisiveness. You see, they are all about white walls. And white walls look so pretty on Instagram!

So, when we moved in, I secretly planned on painting it all white, put lots of "pops of colour" into random places, and become Instagram-famous. (#followme


The longer we lived there, the less enthusiastic I grew about that idea. 
We have lots of white trim everywhere, and when I was younger, I thought that the white trim/coloured walls look was the height of sophistication. 

Please note the white trim around the windows. I love it. 

I have no idea if it is or it isn't, but the fact remains, I like it. And I was very reluctant to sacrifice my pretty white trim in the name of Instagram-stardom. (Again: #followme)

I considered painting the walls white and the trim a different colour, but felt that it would look like a teenager who tries eyeliner for the first time: Clumsy and like I'm trying too hard.

What to do? I knew I had to make a decision now: I have a couple of weeks off, I have my list, I needed to get started on this project asap. 

Luckily, our local Home Depot offers this nifty service of "paint samples", which are small, 8-ounce cans of paint for 5 bucks. I went back, day after day, getting another sample to try and make up my mind. 

I had a weak moment and took something home that was dangerously close to beige. (Bleh.)
Fortunately, I came to my senses shortly after, and disregarded the beige sample. 
(The day I start to regard beige as "sensible" and "nice", is the day you may shoot me.)

I tried my old faithfuls: orange and yellow (neutrals in my book).

It was - okay. 
But it didn't make my heart sing with joy. 

Also, in real life the colour of the wall looked so much like the colour of the furniture that it gave it a weird camouflage effect - and not in a good way. The walls basically swallowed the bed and the nightstand, and I was not happy about it. 

So, after an exhausting day of taping, prepping, moving furniture, removing all the nails and screws, priming the walls not once, but twice (that olive green had a strong presence), and painting two coats of orange me happy (and doing some glazing afterwards that was a big FAIL) - I went back to the paint store the next day. 
They all know me by now, we've become good buddies!

I decided to go with my deepest, most secret desire - the one I thought I could never live out as long as I was married to, well, a guy. (A guy's guy. One of those manly ones.)

I wanted pink. 

I looked at coral, salmon, cherry, and all the other pretty names, but I knew what shade of pink I wanted: 
The shade that reminds you of the first cone of raspberry ice cream at the beginning of summer. 
The shade that makes boys want to kiss you when they look at your lips. 
The sort of pink that that makes you feel happy, optimistic, and pretty. 

I knew exactly what it looked like. 
Before, I had been standing in front of the hundreds of different paint colours at the store for what seemed like hours, staring at them, trying to make a decision, but failing miserably - always walking away feeling defeated. 

This time, I marched right up to the wall, and chose the colour without a moment's hesitation. 

This colour:

I'm over the moon about it! I've had this huge, silly grin on my face all day today whenever I laid eyes on my new walls. 

"What about your husband?" I hear you ask.

I gave him cows, people. It's only fair that he's giving me pink walls.

It's all about compromise.

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