This week was the universe conspired to allow me the time, energy, and resources to attack the walls with gusto. Chad was gone for a week, so no one was going to be driven insane by days of upheaval (I can live with complete chaos if it works for a greater good). I had a week off, because I'm sure at one point I considered doing something really FUN while the boys were gone. I had two remaining children home to assist me (yeah, that never works out quite in the Utopian fashion I envision).
I picked the color--a very mellow butternut gold, very pretty--did you know that yellow is one of the most difficult colors to paint and get even coverage? I know that now. I bought the paint, which only required 3 trips to Home Depot and 5 discussions of various paint attributes, primer/no primer, finish (hmmm, satin or eggshell? It's just so hard to decide!), roller nap, frog tape or blue tape? Nylon or natural bristle brush? PEOPLE I JUST WANT PAINT AND A WAY TO PUT IT ON MY WALL!!!!!!
Next we move furniture. Let me say up front, I detest half the furniture in my family room. I have a behemoth of an entertainment center. Five piece of lovely oak, way too big for the room, takes up an entire wall, and clearly the wood components have a cement core because it takes Two Men and a Truck to move it. But I am going to single-handedly empty the cabinets and drag all those pieces to the center of the room, making it impossible to quickly maneuver a ladder anywhere near where I want to be. The new arrangement also assures the most unique arrangement of shadows on the walls--a real boon to the amateur painter.
Let's talk about this ladder. I borrowed this from neighbors who mentioned it could be a little intimidating. This is not your run-of-the-mill ladder. It is a BOSS. I am convinced that it serves as a means to painting the evil 12 foot vaulted ceiling only while waiting for the emergency signal from Optimus Prime. At that point it morphs into a silver Mini Cooper and races to save the word from the evil Decepticons. Luckily, there were no interplanetary invasions while I painted.
Then, there's the removing of the outlet plates, and the spackle, and the sanding, and the spackling again, and the crack repair. It has been at least 10 years since we painted. Amazing what a family of six can do to walls in that amount of time. No matter how much time and energy goes into repairing, there will be at least one major chunk out of the wall which wont be discovered until you paint over it.
Two days later, I am finally ready to actually paint. First the ceiling. It is a tall ceiling. 12 foot high. I am not a tall person. Luckily, my Transformer/ladder allows me to perch at the top of a 10 foot tower and hang half-upside down in order to trim out the peak, while dodging the fan blades --yes, I turned them off--and blinding myself with the lights. Once trimmed, I can roll the ceiling, again leaning half backward so the paint spatters directly into my eyes instead of just on my hair. Thank God for Becca, who is significantly taller, and enjoys the flexibility of youth. Good times. Do you see a spot that I missed? Look somewhere else.
Walls require more trips up the magic ladder, and a pointless attempt to trip the peak without messing up the newly painted ceiling. Do you see small drop of yellow on that fresh white canvas? Might I suggest you look OUT THE WINDOWS! Hmm, this is not really covering in that "covers in one coat because you sprang for the ridiculously expensive world renowned paint-and-primer-in-one that they advertise so much." In fact, it covers well--in three. Here is where Felicity jumps in. For about an hour, maybe two. Then she discovers she doesn't like the smell of paint. more good times.'
Three days later, it is finished. I have abandoned my desire to paint my kitchen, for now. There's this wallpaper, see, and it has to be stripped off. I accomplished 15 feet or so, in about 2 hours, and I figure I have a few more
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