Spray painting my way to fame and glory

For over 20 years our backyard consisted of bad grass, two old hackberrys, a disappearing sidewalk, and the trash cans. We didn't use it, preferring instead to perch on the front porch in the swing and watch the world go by. After we spruced up the house in 2001-2, we decided the backyard needed a makeover too and we had a patio poured. Then we landscaped. Planted a new tree. Bought furniture. And all of a sudden, I had twice as many flower beds to take care of as before (division of labor: spouse mows, I flower) and I wasn't particularly good at what I had to start with.

But I found I could still rise to the occasion and I'm in the midst of flower bed revival right now. I'm not keeping track of how much I'm spending, just trying to concentrate on perennials. Spend it once and benefit for five years. That's my motto.

So what does any of this have to do with spray paint? The year we bought our metal furniture, all fashionable in bronze tones, my mother-in-law did away with her green metal in favor of something else, and we inherited the green. It was about this time that I remembered my mother's trick with the refrigerator: poor thing, it went from white to harvest gold to copper, depending on the fashion and Mother's inclination.

So there I stood at the spray paint aisle of the local big box and was amazed. Crowded alongside the whites and blacks and primary colors were hammered paints and paints that would speckle! There was matte and gloss. There was the answer to my multi-hued backyard furniture.

I turned everything into hammered brown except the old six-tiered basket holder. It became whiter. Each spring I've replenished them and this year, I pulled the "copper" cats off the front porch and made them pumpkin, sea foam, and daisy. And if I tire of that? Oh, I think I know where the goods are sold.