The List

Here in my quiet little world, we must exclude Carrie for that to be true, I'm exhausted. I've been up and down a ladder, moving the washer and dryer as though they were pieces of furniture that needed to be aligned on a different wall, and crawling over or moving other pieces of furniture all day long. I'm painting. No Picasso or Van Gogh, but vertical walls of a goldenrod colored paint to cover the "I've disliked you when I was painting you that color years ago" minty green. It had to go now or I would have had to keep looking at it over the next 6 months until I could stand and climb ladders again.

When I paint a room, if it's something I'm in doubt about; in doubt about whether I like the color or not, I leave it. I leave it until it's time to paint again. You know how some colors look great on that itty bitty paint chip they call a sample? Then you get it home and the lighting or lack of it in your house makes the color two shades darker and a whole different color? You paint along thinking it will lighten up once it drys? Well, people, I'm here to tell you, I've had a orange glow bedroom one time, a shrimp pink living room and just recently that institution green that was in the laundry room. I know a woman that will paint a whole room and not like the color only to repaint it the next day. That is not me!

I paint with trepidation. I hate it when people say "It's only paint". I know they mean that it can always be repainted. Well, I'm here to groan and squeak with pain and say "It's not only paint. It's my hurting, mauled body AND Paint and a whole day to do it and to get my body in this exhausted state so don't say "it's only paint".

I look back over my shoulder trying to catch it the moment it changes from this spice tan like color to a brilliant bright something that isn't even close to what is in the can. As I finished up the walls last evening, I was pleased. I crept in this morning to take another look. What if it had really dried and dried to a worst then institution green?

I'm pleased with the color. I won't paint the trim yet. I want it all pulled off and larger baseboards put in but that is a job I will share with the husband. It's time to post a list on the refridgerator of the things that need to be done. The list is a warning shot. It prepares everyone. Jobs are listed and we all know what our future holds. There is never a time attached to the jobs but a big black mark lines out the ones accomplished and to get the ball rolling on this one, I'll list "paint the laundry room" as the first thing and below that,

1.Paint laundry room (lined out..done)

2.work on cold water line

3. new baseboards in Laundry Room

4. Paint crown molding and ceiling

Some people work better with a plan (rolling eyes toward the husband) and this list is crucial to gettings thing done around here.

You see how it goes? I make sure that I have things to do on the list; me marking a line through what I get done is an inspiration (rolling eyes toward the husband) to others.

While I painted, the husband kept Carrie entertained. Playing soccer, kick ball, tennis and massive sidewalk art projects, she stayed outside all day and for this I was thankful. They would make trips to the kitchen to check on the spaghetti sauce he was simmering on the stove. Italian sausages simmering in a thick red gravy that wafted out mouth watering aromas all day. A bottle of wine was chilling in the refrigerator to go with the salad and garlic bread and the spaghetti. Ah, something to look forward to this evening. I was a contented painter. Little did I know that by the time my day was done, I would barely be able to sit up and enjoy that meal. No wine. I would have had to be carried to bed without a bath had I even had one glass. A hot shower and a long shower made my creaking bones feel a bit better and I still had to bathe Carrie and do the dishes. I feel a pity party in the making. Excuse me while I go whimper somewhere out of sight and hearing of others!

One more room to paint and 9 days to get it done. Right now, I'm sitting here in an almost dark living room, the tv is off and I can hear the hum of this lap top and my fingers clicking the keys and that is all I hear. Blessed silence. Carrie is still asleep!