We’ve lived here for almost eight years, and our home is beginning to show the weary signs of sheltering us. We’ve raised three boys under this roof, and there’s been, let’s say, the odd nick or scrape. This week I’ve been dealing with the accumulated Ross damage that our poor house has had to bear. This is one of the window ledges in our kitchen. I believe it bore the brunt of a Star Wars light sabre at one time, and has the scar to show for it.

I’ve resisted dealing with these scrapes for a few reasons. We live in a beautiful, old farm house. The kind that has wood trim and ornate mouldings everywhere. The people before us had painted all the trim a kind of high gloss, milky white colour. Quite lovely, but my concern was that I’d have to repaint all the trim and, you know, that would be a lot of work.

But then, I thought, why not try to just cover the bruises? That would take much less time, if I could only find the right paint colour to match. After a few trips to Home Hardware, I found the colour I thought would work – Dairy White – and had them mix a small can for me. It was perfect, or as close to perfect as I could reasonably expect.

So, all week I’ve been walking around the house with my little can of paint and one of the kid’s paint brushes … dabbing Dairy over the gouges and scrapes and chipped bits that have been waiting for some attention for so long.

I can’t tell you the joy this brings me! I feel like the house is happier. It’s like I’ve kissed and bandaged all her little owies and now we are both giving little sighs of satisfaction.

There are some bigger jobs that we are going to tackle in the new year. Things that involve tearing and cutting and rebuilding and redoing, with words like gutting and ripping out featuring predominately in the planning conversations. The guys are getting quite excited about it all. Sounds painful to me. Like, going into battle or something.

For now, I’m quite happy with my little can of paint.