Green Thumbs and Red Palms
From the title of this post you may begin to erroneously surmise what it's going to be about. Let me start by saying that it's not going to be about masturbating while gardening. And it's most definitely not associated with a hitchhiking Incredible Hulk and Lady Macbeth's symbolic guilt. Instead of telling you what this post is not about, it might be better to just say what it actually is about-just to alleviate the suspense.
Well, the weekend was spent like many homeowners spend their weekends. Trips to the Home Depot, yard work, and home improvement projects. We moved into our very own home at the end of last June, however we didn't really get involved in any home projects short of hanging pictures and curtain rods. So now that it's spring and most of my azalea bushes are in full bloom my thoughts drift to colorful flowers, buzzing bees, graceful butterflies and lots of mulch. So after picking out marigolds, verbena, geraniums, peonies and other assorted flowering annuals I planted them in front of my azaleas. Never have I attempted to plant before, and I'm okay with the results. Even after Miss Puppy decided to go tearing through my flower bed while playing and I lost one geranium. I'm just having trouble getting the dirt out from underneath of my fingernails and I have to solemnly repent for the several earthworms that lost their lives in the digging up of my flower bed. But if I remember correctly from my tomboy fishing hole days that earthworms can be pulled apart and still survive. But I may have that totally wrong, and thus have no justification for the murderous events that took place in the soil.
Ok, green thumb covered.
Now for the juicy part, the red palms or rather the red fingers, hands, feet, legs, hair and other body parts that were involved in the Great Half Bath Painting Project. Again, after renting for what feels like eons, I never felt that compelled to paint the walls. All that time, energy, and money spent on painting that would just need to be repainted when vacating the property just didn't appeal to me. And so I had resigned myself to drab white or off white walls (and 1970s paneling in that one duplex) during this time period. But now that I own the walls, (well I will in 29 1/4 years if I must be technical), I'm free to paint at will with no repercussions from the landlord. And since I don't plan on moving any time soon, I would be able to enjoy colorful walls for years to come.
So my husband and I decided we would start with the downstairs half bath first. Our reasoning, which makes perfect sense in theory, was that this room was small and indiscreet, so if we made any major errors it wouldn't be too traumatic and painful. We had decided on going with a bold color-RED. Not fire engine, primary red. But rather a deeper darker red. Rum Runner to be specific, which is in no way a reflection of my love affair with alcoholic beverages. The problem revealed itself to us about 10 minutes into the project. First off, the paint was just not going on very smoothly and evenly. There were extremely obvious splotches and roller marks up and down the walls after the first coat. Secondly, the space was so cramped and with very difficult crevices to paint like behind the toilet and sink and around the fixtures-which I did cover with tape. Also, we could only paint in shifts because of the tight quarters and our ample body mass. And using red as the first color to experiment with was not a "bright" idea (see! a pun) as it is a color that needs multiple coats to really cover the walls.
Needless to say after the first coat was applied I wanted to cry. The roller splotches, the grainy brush strokes in the hard to reach places that we couldn't roll, and the droplets of paint everywhere were truly disheartening. I looked to my husband for some reassurance by stating that I had seen enough episodes of Trading Spaces to know that another coat would vastly improve the blood room, um I mean bathroom. To which he didn't help matters.
sidenote: Honey, just some helpful womanly advice, when your wife is freaking out about something the best way to respond to that freaking out is to reassure her, even if it means lying to her. Never confirm her fears with doubtful comments or freaking out on your own part.
Fortunately, the second coat did improve matters tremendously. The only issue now is equipment related, which will be remedied because I went to Home Depot today and got a small roller and edger to smooth and even those hard to reach places. So hopefully our bathroom painting will be completed and we can try to tackle more walls.
Unless of course I pull a Hildy and decide to staple artificial silk flowers, vinyl albums, or hay to my walls.
Well, the weekend was spent like many homeowners spend their weekends. Trips to the Home Depot, yard work, and home improvement projects. We moved into our very own home at the end of last June, however we didn't really get involved in any home projects short of hanging pictures and curtain rods. So now that it's spring and most of my azalea bushes are in full bloom my thoughts drift to colorful flowers, buzzing bees, graceful butterflies and lots of mulch. So after picking out marigolds, verbena, geraniums, peonies and other assorted flowering annuals I planted them in front of my azaleas. Never have I attempted to plant before, and I'm okay with the results. Even after Miss Puppy decided to go tearing through my flower bed while playing and I lost one geranium. I'm just having trouble getting the dirt out from underneath of my fingernails and I have to solemnly repent for the several earthworms that lost their lives in the digging up of my flower bed. But if I remember correctly from my tomboy fishing hole days that earthworms can be pulled apart and still survive. But I may have that totally wrong, and thus have no justification for the murderous events that took place in the soil.
Ok, green thumb covered.
Now for the juicy part, the red palms or rather the red fingers, hands, feet, legs, hair and other body parts that were involved in the Great Half Bath Painting Project. Again, after renting for what feels like eons, I never felt that compelled to paint the walls. All that time, energy, and money spent on painting that would just need to be repainted when vacating the property just didn't appeal to me. And so I had resigned myself to drab white or off white walls (and 1970s paneling in that one duplex) during this time period. But now that I own the walls, (well I will in 29 1/4 years if I must be technical), I'm free to paint at will with no repercussions from the landlord. And since I don't plan on moving any time soon, I would be able to enjoy colorful walls for years to come.
So my husband and I decided we would start with the downstairs half bath first. Our reasoning, which makes perfect sense in theory, was that this room was small and indiscreet, so if we made any major errors it wouldn't be too traumatic and painful. We had decided on going with a bold color-RED. Not fire engine, primary red. But rather a deeper darker red. Rum Runner to be specific, which is in no way a reflection of my love affair with alcoholic beverages. The problem revealed itself to us about 10 minutes into the project. First off, the paint was just not going on very smoothly and evenly. There were extremely obvious splotches and roller marks up and down the walls after the first coat. Secondly, the space was so cramped and with very difficult crevices to paint like behind the toilet and sink and around the fixtures-which I did cover with tape. Also, we could only paint in shifts because of the tight quarters and our ample body mass. And using red as the first color to experiment with was not a "bright" idea (see! a pun) as it is a color that needs multiple coats to really cover the walls.
Needless to say after the first coat was applied I wanted to cry. The roller splotches, the grainy brush strokes in the hard to reach places that we couldn't roll, and the droplets of paint everywhere were truly disheartening. I looked to my husband for some reassurance by stating that I had seen enough episodes of Trading Spaces to know that another coat would vastly improve the blood room, um I mean bathroom. To which he didn't help matters.
sidenote: Honey, just some helpful womanly advice, when your wife is freaking out about something the best way to respond to that freaking out is to reassure her, even if it means lying to her. Never confirm her fears with doubtful comments or freaking out on your own part.
Fortunately, the second coat did improve matters tremendously. The only issue now is equipment related, which will be remedied because I went to Home Depot today and got a small roller and edger to smooth and even those hard to reach places. So hopefully our bathroom painting will be completed and we can try to tackle more walls.
Unless of course I pull a Hildy and decide to staple artificial silk flowers, vinyl albums, or hay to my walls.
posted by amyd | 5:04 PM
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