August 26, 2004
Painting myself into a corner
We have been looking into painting our house. Given the size of the typical century-old Springfield house, this is no small undertaking. We were vaguely scheduled to have it done in September, and then something came up, and I was wondering if maybe we ought to back off on it until things were a little more stable. Given that no money had changed hands, I figured we still had the option.
Until yesterday morning at 6:30 when the phone rang. My husband answered, and I didn't pay much attention. By 6:45 a.m. there were guys slamming ladders outside the bedroom windows and ripping off the old gutters. By the time I got home from work, the storms were gone, along with the screens, and one entire side of the house was sanded practically down to bare wood. I guess we're getting our house painted.
I am nonplussed. I was expecting at least a preliminary powerwash as a mental warm-up before anything this drastic: the porches uninhabitable, the yard strewn with gutter shards, eight-inch masonry nails, drifts of dingy paint chips, and strangers in bug-head respiration masks brandishing power tools.
Did I mention that we still haven't decided on a paint color?
Posted by emfoley at 1:36 PM