Where's My Straightjacket?

Anxious to get some dollars out of our original estimate for the house project, we decided to do the interior painting ourselves. Last week as John was finishing up the trim work he mentioned we'd need to go ahead and get the walls primed and the ceiling painted as soon as possible. I have no idea in what fantasy world we were residing when doing this ourselves seemed like a good idea, much less remotely possible.

"Send in the painters" we flatly stated, defeated. In they came, a team of them with sprayers. They worked for about 4 hours on Saturday and when they left our addition looked like a mental institution. Not the look we were going for, but probably appropriate. Everything is stark white for the moment. Anything unable to move out of the way fast enough. They got the doors that hadn't been installed yet, event the attic door that's sitting on the porch right now. Even the floor is white. The box that contains one of our medicine cabinets that happens to be sitting in the bathroom is white. All the mosquito larvae growing in the shower where John's keeping water to be sure no leaks appear in the lining are white. I wondered hopefully if the paint chemicals might kill the mosquito babies. White, white, white.

At least Lola matches.

And Sarah's summer dress just pops!