I’m with you, Kermit

In the immortal words of Kermit the Frog, “It’s not easy being green.”

I’ve been doing some touch-up painting on our camp/cottage on Lake Superior. It feels a bit like a visual game of whisper-down-the-alley. You remember that game—where the first player whispers something in the ear of the second player, the second passes it on in the ear of the third, and so on, until what emerges at the other end is unrecognizable. The longer the “alley”, the stranger the result.

When we bought this little place some 28 years ago, it was painted dark brown with a pale green trim. I had to scurry behind a shed to find this last remnant of that colour–even paler than I remembered.

Within a very short time, we had to face the prospect of re-painting, so we chose a brown as close as we could find to the original, and a green that was a bit darker than the original. And so began a game of “what’s that green, again?”

It’s a big job to paint the entire place, and we had it for relaxation. So we never tackled the whole job at once. One year, we’d paint the front. Another year, just the trim. I didn’t do ladder work, so I’d do the windows one year and Jack would paint the fascia on the same side another year. The side most exposed to the sun was re-done more often than the side protected by trees.

Then, we added on to the tiny bunkhouse. The original bunkhouse didn’t need to be repainted, but of course the addition did.

We always did a pretty good job of matching the brown. But the green? Not so good. And we never seemed to have the information at hand that we needed to get a perfect match.

“Where did we get it the last time?”

“Um…maybe Home Hardware?”

“Don’t you have the can?”

“Can’t find one anywhere.” Or, “I have two cans. Not sure which is which.” Or, “The can’s here, but the label is covered in paint.” Or, “I have the can, but nobody in town sells that brand anymore.”

Occasionally, I did have all the information, “Yes, you did buy that here, but our formulas have all changed.

“Never mind, I’ll just take a scrap in. They can match it.”

Once the paint gurus got as close as they could, they entered it into their computers: Dunning Camp Green. I think there’s a Dunning Camp Green at three different paint places in the Sault. All different

Like “whisper down the alley”, what’s emerged at the end isn’t much like my first choice green. My favourite was a mossy green with a sort of grey-ish tinge. I liked that one so much, I painted the kitchen chairs. But nobody has ever been able to match it since.

A few days ago, I stopped into the paint store where I’m sure I last bought paint for camp. And sure enough, there it was on their computer: Dunning Camp Green Trim.

Ah—but they are having supply problems and don’t have that base in quarts. It’s a gallon, or nothing. A quart is more than enough to do all the trim, and I have no intention of doing it all. But I was on my way north, and the window frame on the little tool shed was scraped and waiting. Who knows? While I’m at it, I might do a few of the window frames on the sunny side of the house—they’re starting to peel.

I bought the gallon. It’s not quite the green I prefer, but unless I forget to take the can home for the winter, I think it’s Dunning Camp Green for the long haul.