I’ve never seen an uglier color than the one currently on the Bar B! It’s bu-ttugly flesh-color, a color not found in nature.
As of today, Oct. 1, I’ve been at the Bar B for two years and I couldn’t look at the color any longer. I hired a former neighbor to come and paint the place and though we got off to a slow start, things are movin’ fast today.
The house used to be red; it wasn’t a bad color faded from years of intense Colorado sunshine. Whoever painted the place used a sprayer but thought taping trim, lights and fixtures was a waste of time.
The former neighbor had dogs that were so bored they chewed the siding off the back of the house. When I first saw this place the dogs were locked in the back yard and left to the heated shed for shelter. They jumped at the windows with ferocious vigor and if I hadn’t been used to dogs, I’d run out the front door and not looked back. I guess while their owner hiked and biked they chewed on the siding, or at least that’s how I hear it.
Before paint, the siding all along the back (east) side of the house had to be replaced. The way the windows were installed created a problem so the contractor ended up laying the new siding on top the old siding. More insulation against the cold is always good. I don’t know what will happen when it comes time to put in new windows!
Right by the front door there were old greasy shelves that are in no way inviting but are incredibly functional and hold wood in the winter and block the wind and snow when it starts to blow. We always thought the shelves were attached but when I came home one day, the guy powerwashing the house had removed them. What a difference it makes!
In getting all this construction set up, the color was the last detail. I’ve chosen a dark chocolate brown with dark eggplant for trim around the windows. Since the roof is green, it makes a nice triad and the darker color will draw more heat on winter days.
I have a worry about choosing a color because color isn’t really something that can be accurately described. Back in my motorcycle days, I bought an ’84 Honda V65, a tornado of shaft-driven power, all 1100cc’s of it. It was a powerful bike and many of my ex’s friends were miffed that I was riding a bigger bike than they were. Friends of the Anderson family had a towing and car restoration business and they wanted to try out new painting equipment and volunteered to paint my tank (which was a washed-out blue) and side panels. They sat me down with a mountain of color swatch books and everyone there had an opinion about what a good color is for a bike. Shades, hues, contrasts. I had made up my mind and I wanted purple. Clown purple, something to offset all the black and chrome on my then-old bike. When we went to pick it up, it wasn’t purple; not even close. It was a dark maroon and though I ended up liking the color, every time I looked at it, I realized the man who painted it decided what color it was going to be.
Doing home construction has taught me to speak up. If it doesn’t look right, don’t expect anyone to have a dream in which the Good Lord tells them they didn’t install the drywall very well and in a year there’d be cracks along the wall from the heavy weight of deep snows on the roof. If it doesn’t look right, speak up.
I hope the color looks good – the only thing worse than looking at flesh-color paint is looking at the wrong color that I agreed to through my silence. Waiting …
Today, hammers pound away, saws cut through siding and the thump of heavy footsteps on the deck has the kittens under cover. I don’t know when the painting will start but we’re looking at below freezing this week so I hope it’s soon. I don’t want to have to wait until spring.