Lessons in painting.
There is a lesson to be learned. But first: the Set Up.
--
We are bad fags, sometimes. We've been in this house for one year today, and have only now put the first bit of paint up on a wall. It's mostly my fault. I am okay with white walls. Being the child who grew up on Military bases, I am used to them. Besides, everything goes with white.
But a recent acquisition of art, and I mean a lot of art, has inspired me... er.. uhm... I mean "us".
So, as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I've finally taken the wall paper off the wall here in my room. One weekend of scoring and scraping, then the next weekend of a steamer. (Advice: Use a steamer. It was magical.) TheHusband bought me some primer and I pointed out some wall colors to go with the painting I'd chosen for this room. So he also brought home some swatches from which I could choose. I primed the one wall and used spackle on all the old nail holes.
So, while I was out yesterday at the grocery store, he got busy ripping the extra closet out of this room. I mean really, it already had a (small) walk-in closet, why did someone add another? I wanted him to leave one of the walls up, but he didn't. When I mentioned it, he said he never heard me say it. I told him I had, but didn't argue the point.
Today, he went and purchased the paint.
I told him which walls I was going to do which color, and he got me to change my mind. I deferred to his choice. I could always repaint if I was right. So I started.
I got half-way through:
and suddenly, I also got company. I was perfectly willing to do it myself, but he couldn't keep his little boney fingers out of it. Truth be told, I didn't mind. The rollers make my hands hurt. A lot. Besides, it got done faster.
Of course, this means one thing. He has to sit in here and look at what he's done. Standard procedure. Whenever he finishes a project, he will sit for hours and "look" at it afterwards. There is the lesson.
When you live with someone that considers himself a "home improvement expert", and you want a job done: just start it yourself. It will surely get done. Fast.
Amazingly enough, he both agreed that I had picked out the right colors, but he also agreed that I was right in which wall got what color. This means that I'll spend next weekend painting two walls, again.
Being right is enough.
(okay-- two lessons!)
---
Here is part of the art, against the wall.
--
We are bad fags, sometimes. We've been in this house for one year today, and have only now put the first bit of paint up on a wall. It's mostly my fault. I am okay with white walls. Being the child who grew up on Military bases, I am used to them. Besides, everything goes with white.
But a recent acquisition of art, and I mean a lot of art, has inspired me... er.. uhm... I mean "us".
So, as I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I've finally taken the wall paper off the wall here in my room. One weekend of scoring and scraping, then the next weekend of a steamer. (Advice: Use a steamer. It was magical.) TheHusband bought me some primer and I pointed out some wall colors to go with the painting I'd chosen for this room. So he also brought home some swatches from which I could choose. I primed the one wall and used spackle on all the old nail holes.
So, while I was out yesterday at the grocery store, he got busy ripping the extra closet out of this room. I mean really, it already had a (small) walk-in closet, why did someone add another? I wanted him to leave one of the walls up, but he didn't. When I mentioned it, he said he never heard me say it. I told him I had, but didn't argue the point.
Today, he went and purchased the paint.
I told him which walls I was going to do which color, and he got me to change my mind. I deferred to his choice. I could always repaint if I was right. So I started.
I got half-way through:
and suddenly, I also got company. I was perfectly willing to do it myself, but he couldn't keep his little boney fingers out of it. Truth be told, I didn't mind. The rollers make my hands hurt. A lot. Besides, it got done faster.
Of course, this means one thing. He has to sit in here and look at what he's done. Standard procedure. Whenever he finishes a project, he will sit for hours and "look" at it afterwards. There is the lesson.
When you live with someone that considers himself a "home improvement expert", and you want a job done: just start it yourself. It will surely get done. Fast.
Amazingly enough, he both agreed that I had picked out the right colors, but he also agreed that I was right in which wall got what color. This means that I'll spend next weekend painting two walls, again.
Being right is enough.
(okay-- two lessons!)
---
Here is part of the art, against the wall.
posted by Mike at 4/16/2006 05:22:00 PM
2 Comments:
I tried the scoring/remover solution -solution. It was NOT the solution, but what made my fingers hurt.
My advice? Go to your local big box store and rent the steamer. Once it is warmed up, you will be amazed.
heh heh. You said steamer.
And that's almost the exact color of my living room! Excellent taste!
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