This was a trip of a lifetime that can best be summed up by reiterating what I kept telling myself while on the trip, "I can’t believe I get to do this!"
"Carpe diem! (Seize the day!)"
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Why come on a llama walk? Maybe you love animals, maybe you want to do something different, or maybe you want to celebrate an occasion, like a birthday. Whyever you do it, it is a walk to remember.
WHEN YOU GO:
What: ShangriLlama Walks
Where: Yorba Linda
Contact info: (661) 221-5813 / www.shangrillama.com
(Disclaimer - Always, always, ALWAYS call first as hours and prices can fluctuate!)
Hours: Saturday, 9am - noon; Sunday, 4pm - 7pm.
Admission: $50 per person (recommended for ages 12 and up)
TO PAINT OR NOT TO PAINT IS NOT THE QUESTION, BUT RATHER - WHAT COLOR?!I painted our dining room last week. Well, I actually painted several walls, several times, several different colors; about fifteen different colors. (Anyone need some paint?) Years ago when I painted the room I painted it a deep peach, almost salmon color, which everyone who came over wrongly called pink. I don’t like pink, so the walls were peach - really. Sometimes it’s hard to be the only one who is right!
I had sponge-painted the inset, where the windows are, a funky green. It had been my first attempt at sponge painting, so it really didn’t look very good.. Probably not the best room to try something new on that didn’t work as it’s the very first room that people see. (How important are first impressions, really?!) And the funky green color didn’t help.
After years of staring at these peachy, green splotchy walls, I suddenly realized at dinner one night last week - I really don’t like them. They were not attractive. I asked my family and guests what color I should paint the walls and got as many answers as there were people; none of them were the same. Yellow, purple, blue, peach (they were peach, already!), green, brown, etc.
Over the next few days I tried most of the color suggestions and/or variations of them. I even got creative and mixed colors together when I couldn’t find just the right tone. (And we all know that mixing colors is easy to replicate and purchase!) The yellow was too bright, not like cheery sunlight was flooding in, but like I was living on the surface of the sun. So I, picturing a sunset, mixed the yellow with a peach. The result? Like someone’s stomach insides were now on my walls. I then tried just a softer peach on the walls and discovered that the color was more like fleshtone. Now the room looked like skin - kind of creepy to sit in skin. The brown was too dark and made the room seem smaller. One green, that looked so pretty on the small little sample card and under the store light, look sickly pea green actually up on the walls. Red is my favorite color, but a little too in-your-face for the peaceful ambiance I was searching to create for the dining room. Grey looked institutional, which might fit our family best if color reflects a family’s true colors. Beige and tan were too blah.
I knew exactly what I wanted (obviously!) - a pretty color in and of itself, that could stand alone and declare - "I am a beautiful color, worthy of admiration simply because I am here"; a color that made visitors feel welcomed, accepted, and loved the minute they walked in the door; a color that embraced the morning sun and spread happiness and joy on the walls, and at night time set the mood for harmony and relaxing, as well as stimulating thought-provoking conversation; and a color that would go with my current accessories since I had now purchased so much paint I didn’t have money left to buy other decorations. Maybe this is too much pressure for any color!
On the third day (and yes I have a life outside of painting the house, I just lost it for a few days) I was heading towards a meltdown. My family, who would eat quickly (so they could leave quickly) in the multi-colored striped room that screamed "there is an insane woman living in this house" started avoiding eye contact with me. My youngest son took pity on me. He listened to my anguished tale of woe, of how much this room meant to me and why color choice was important to me (for the fortieth time). He listened to me describe the exaltation I felt when I was in the store, picking out color chips and paint, knowing that this one, this very one, was the right choice this time; absolutely. He listened as I described the depths to which I plummeted when I painted the wall and lo and behold, it, too, was horrible. Basically, he listened to me. (It is nice to be loved.) Then, he picked out a really pretty color green, a mix between celery green and apple green, that gently transitioned colors in the morning, afternoon, and evening light that filtered through my dining room windows. How pretty! How perfect! Could it be? Could this be the one? YES! At the very least, it was good enough and I was really tired of painting.