Painted. Sort Of.

When I opened the can of light blue ... ooops sorry ... Mystical Blue paint, it looked white and I thought I had gone too light. But it's not.

The lighting in my bathroom is crap, and I have transitional eyesight now, which makes bad lighting worse. That translates into I can't see anything within three feet when I'm wearing my contacts for distance because I'm old and decrepit now. You think I'm joking. Just ask my nine year old. He'll tell you I'm old. Especially if I choose to confess to an age other than my own. Lately I prefer being 32.

Uhm... where was I?

Yes. The bathroom is blue. The molding is still dirty white. But that's tomorrow. My back hurts.

I also did some cleaning today. And laundry. And searching for artwork through unpacked moving boxes in the basement.

Have I mentioned we've lived here for four years? And I'm only now getting around to painting the bathroom. And rummaging through boxes.

I'm on a mission to reclaim my basement and turn the rabbit warren into usable space. (I will not show a picture of my basement to you. You can thank me now.) I don't know if it can be done because the biggest obsticle is my husband. Once he found his computer stuff (four years ago) he stopped emptying boxes. I'm at the point where a dumpster is sounding pretty good.

Any advice on getting a spouse to unpack and get rid of crap he no longer needs or knows he has would be appreciated.

*knock-knock-knock*

Anybody there? Is this thing on?

Not To Paint

 

 The hardware store finally got the base for the paint I wanted for the bathroom and I picked it up yesterday afternoon. Along with some screws. Can't leave the hardware store without some sort of hardware.

But by the time I got home it was too late to start. So this morning I was all "gung ho" about starting as soon as I put the offspring on the bus. But first I had to eat, and then I had to check email, and then I had to set up. I prepped the space with newspaper over stuff I didn't want to splatter with "mystic blue" paint. And stuff kept falling, and I kept tripping and slipping and swearing and cursing (not the same), and because I spend a lot of time alone I heard a small voice in my head saying "this is a bad idea."

Always listen to the voice in your head.

Unless it tells you to do something illegal.

The voice in my head seemed to be on to something, so I listened. I stopped what I was doing, got some clean clothes, and headed to the shower.

Nothing like a hot shower to clear your mind.

So now, instead of frantically painting, trying to finish before I have to go to school to hear my son's third grade class's recorder recital, I am showered, caffeinated, have time for errands and several run-on sentences, and maybe even time for a quick cocktail before the recital. You may think that's unkind, but honestly, I've never heard my son practice. I fear for my hearing. And this performance is expected to run-on for 30 minutes.

It'll be done just in time for lunch.

I haven't cracked open that bottle of Bitch Bubbly. Maybe THAT's what's for lunch.

Except that I was planning on doing the painting after the recital. My planning may be flawed.

The Danger of Power Tools

Put a cordless drill in my hands and what happens? Holes in the wall. THAT's what happens. Several holes in the wall.

Despite the destructive pleasure it provides, I'm not sure I should be trusted with a cordless drill or anything else that cuts, slices or sands. Seriously. It's bad enough with a painbrush. And now I'm sorely tempted, as I wait for some spackle to dry, to wander aimlessly around the house and leave a trail of holes in the walls. Just because I can. And because the battery for the drill is charged.

It's been a frustrating couple of days. So many projects; so little time. And the gods of home improvement are toying with me. Just when I think I've measured and leveled and have it all perfect, the drill bit slides a little south and I'm faced with a hole just a hair too far from the other. The plastic anchors don't open, and on the other side... what's this? A stud???? WTF?

I might have known a stud was there if I could find the stud finder. I wonder if there is a finder for the stud finder. Be that as it may, I can't find the stud finder, because the last person who used it (not me) put it away in some illogical place. It won't be seen again until another one is purchased and it turns up when I'm looking for something else.

I finally committed to a paint color for the upstairs bathroom, but the hardware store was out of the base needed to mix the color for the texture I want. My plan was to pick it up yesterday and start painting as soon as the boy was on the bus to school this morning. Had that been the case, the room would be painted by now.

Alas! What games these gods do play.

Or maybe it's my toil that brings trouble. I need a new cauldron.

I now need to return to the hardware store, get my paint (gods willing) and get some longer screws for the holes that lead to studs. The screws I had were for the plastic anchors.

I've considered throwing in the towel and spending the rest of the day watching HGTV and finishing off a bottle of sparkling wine. It's
called Bitch Bubbly.

That bottle has my name on it.

Lu gave it to me. She's a good friend.

You Can't Stop Me

I'm on a roll. Beginning to think I'm possessed by an alien being. There is no other way to explain the productivity.

Not just more gardening. Especially since the hard, painful part is done (at least in one plot - the sad, pathetic one above. Trust me it looks better in person), I'm having fun with planting. Too bad I have no plan or concept or even any idea of where I planted the sunflower seeds. In addition to the gardening, there are also lovely, colorful potted plants to great visitors coming to our front door. If we got visitors. We don't. My parents don't even drop by anymore but that's another story for another blog site.

Today, after a rough start and a cup of coffee (which I was wishing was a mimosa), I managed to get the entire upstairs primed. It's a small bathroom and I knew I would be able to cover all surfaces in a single shot. But it's "L" shaped and there are many little surfaces and several large surfaces, two doors and a window to get around. So now that it's primed I have to commit to a color. Or rather a shade. The color will be blue. Probably a pale, icy blue but I couldn't really get a sense of what a color would look like in there with all of the dark lavendar and yellowing plaster.

The shadows make it look a little off (bad lighting), but it's white primer.

Even with the primer the room looks completely different. My son was mightily impressed. I'm impressed too.

Painted today, gardened yesterday (it was just too nice out to stay in), Thursday I sewed a new curtain for the downstairs bathroom.

The New Curtain (bad lighting everywhere)

Who AM I, and what have I done with me?

Wherever I went, I'm happy with the newly possessed alien me. For now. I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow. We'll confirm the presence of aliens then. In the meantime, I'm going to go look at my bathroom.

I Did It Again

I spent two hours or so out in the "garden" yesterday, attempting to finally finish what I started a couple of weeks ago. I was obligated since, in a fit of garden fantasy, I foolishly committed myself to many pots of purchased garden things, which required holes in the ground, to plant.

I don't know what a hidden camera of my wrestling with the earth might reveal, but in my mind the entire event was punctuated with muttering and cursing, bug avoidance and the constant unearthing of bulbs I was trying to leave in peace.

Toward the end it got particularly bad. I was dressed for cool, overcast. Then the sun came out and all bets were off. In a haze of delerium and a cloud of gnats around my sweaty head, I wondered what it would tack to track down Ahmed and his yard crashing crew and get them to follow me home.

Ahmed! Where are you? I NEED you.

Problem is the nearest "home improvement" center is many miles away and Ahmed ain't coming to my neighborhood anytime soon.

Curses.

I can use "ain't" because I'm crazy. Like my mother, only younger.

I need someone with a vision, who will make my yard a beautiful place, cover all the costs, and give the neighbors yet another reason to call Town Hall and complain about the fact that we're working in the yard. (Yes, they have done that - when we hired someone to clean out an overgrown portion of our yard. They've also complained about the motion sensor lights we put up so we could see at night when we came home. "this is the country; it's supposed to be dark.") (OMFG I could go off on a rant. But I won't. Today.

So, my garden. It's hardly a garden. Really, in actual fact, it's just an area under the kitchen window that no longer has grass growing in it.

As for all of the other projects I anticipated for this year, they can wait until next year. Or maybe 2012. It'll take me that long to recover.

Somebody Stop Me, I'm Gardening

Seriously, I don't do the "garden" thing. I do the cooking thing. Or the reading thing. Or lots of other things. But gardening does not fall under the heading of "things" I do.
It's a thing I don't.

But lately, the weeds, the wild plants, the dead stuff, it's all speaking to me. In a very nasty way.

"Get off your ass and take care of us"

Who said that?

Oh, Jiminy Cricket I'm talking to myself again.

Let's face it. I'm embarrassed about taking my turn with the book club because they all have nicer homes than me. And yes, they are nice people, but this is small-town judgemental New England and I can't face the embarrassement. I also don't have enough chairs.

But maybe, just maybe, if I can overcome the abject hate of standing out in the sun and pulling weeds and crap, and get the "garden" to a state of "not bad", "looks like she tried", then maybe (just maybe) I can make my way indoors and make some positive changes there.

I'm always thinking about it. I just need to act on it.

There is the chance, however, that I've been watching too much HGTV and DIY Network and I'm just deluding myself with regard to what I really can accomplish. But I honestly think, that most of it is just the need to commit myself and jump into the cold water without hesitating.

I'll get the gardening done, paint the bathroom and then I'll have a tag sale and get rid of all the extra crap.

Won't that feel good? And by the time the tag sale rolls around, the garden should look pretty good.

Maybe.