Although most people wouldn't know it, I have been blessed with a number of talents. One of these is interior decorating and painting. Unfortunately, I don't get to practice this very often.

It has been several years since any painting has been done in my home and high time that it was freshened up. Besides, when I attempted to touch up some nail holes, I used the wrong color of paint. I couldn't very well just leave the wall looking as if it had a severe case of polka dot pox.

"As long as we are painting anyhow," I told my honey, "I might as well change from this drab off-white to one of the new darker colors."

"We are painting?" said my honey, as he settled in to watch the Penn State football game on TV.

"You don't have to help right now," I said, "After the game will be fine." (Notice my expertise in male psychology.)

I just happened to have some paint samples that I had picked up down at the hardware store.

"What do you think? Sage Brown, Harvest Wheat or Bungalow Gold? "

"Touchdown! Go Blue and Gold!" He yelled.

I figured that meant he liked Bungalow Gold. Good thing since I had already purchased the paint. We experts don't like to have to make extra trips to the hardware store.

I soon discovered that my paintbrush was not quite as steady as it was when I was younger, probably an inferior quality of brush. Maybe I'd better mask off the baseboards and trim. No sense taking chances.

By the time that was done, the game was in the third quarter.

I rolled on some of the paint and could not believe my eyes! Is that the color that I picked? Bungalow Gold? It looks like Brown Mustard. There must be some mistake!

I found the paint sample and held it up to the wall. It was a perfect match. Maybe it would look better when it dried.

About that time, honey came in. "We won!" he exclaimed. I put the paint roller in his hand and pointed him to the wall.

"The color is not what I picked out," I said.

Not having my decorating aptitude, he used more elbow grease than paint and when the job was done, something was wrong.

"It looks splotchy," I said. "I think it needs another coat. This room should have taken a gallon of paint and we have half a gallon left."

"I'm hungry," said honey, leaving to raid the refrigerator.

I figured that was the last I'd see of him. Oh, well. At least the first coat made the second one easier. I was rolling down the wall at 90 miles an hour. Paint was flying.

My worst fear was kicking the paint bucket over, but I managed to avoid it and only slopped paint over the edge of the roller pan once or twice.

Of course, I did step in a few drips, which stuck to my foot and then to the plastic. Soon I was dragging the plastic behind me with every step. Even we experts have our limits.

I touched up the places on the ceiling where I got gold on it; then I touched up the gold on the wall where I got white on it. This went on over and over for a while.

Honey returned just in time to help with removing the masking tape. "Did you finish already?" he asked -- as if he didn't know.

Amazingly, it turned out pretty well. The color looked just like it did in the book. The room practically glowed! It was a decorator's dream.

There is only one problem with having a freshly painted room. It makes the rest of the house look dirty.

Fortunately, I picked up some more paint samples at the hardware store yesterday – just in case we decide to do another room.