Perspective


A seemingly simple task can often turn into a study in frustration. Yesterday I began painting the bathroom ceiling with the ultra-thick glaze required to give it the finish we decided upon. It was like painting with wet clay. Ugh. By the time I trimmed out and then rolled the ceiling with it’s first coat I was getting a little grumpy. I recalled how difficult this paint was to use from a previous painting endeavor last year, and that I had vowed never to use it again. Apparently, optimism had clouded my judgment once again. What a pain. Top that off with the simple fact that paint burns when it splatters in your eye. (For a long time.)

Don came to my rescue and offered to do the second coat, (read that as: “Uh, honey, why don’t you let me finish that?”) but had to wait until 9:00 pm to do it as our faithful dryer of 21 years unexpectedly died around 11:00 am. The rest of the day was filled with a visit by the repairman, a pronouncement of death by motor failure, and then finding a replacement. Now normally, I don’t mourn the passing of aged appliances, but this dryer… well, it had dried the clothes of all our babies. I was kind of sad—until Don brought in the new one. He not only found the dryer that is the companion to last year’s new washer, but he got the scratch and dent one from Lowes and saved hundreds of dollars. I was doing the happy dance by dinnertime.

Today is wall day, but I also have to go to work… I may be up painting until late tonight, unless there’s a plumbing leak. Ah well… at least I could dry the towels if it happened.