I can't stay in the lines. Its not for a lack of trying, I just can't seem to do it. Usually the first coat goes well and the second coat, well it goes everywhere but where its supposed to. In my hair, on my pants, on the wall thats not supposed to get painted, the carpet and of course, my signature---the ceiling. Tonight was no different.
Brian and I, like I've said before, are working on multiple projects around the house. All the bedrooms need laminate flooring installed and painted, except for Brandon's room who just needs the flooring. The basement need painting desperately! We're getting new carpeting from the basement up two flights of steps to the hallway on the 2nd floor. So I figure, knowing my painting skills (or lack thereof) it would be smart to paint before new carpeting goes in. Brian's working OT tonight, so I figured I should put my "alone" time to good use and get some work done. We're on a mini time table---they are moving in April at the latest and the family (including all my family from PA) are coming March 1st for the girls joint birthday party. Having out of towners means I need places for them to sleep. And the only way to make that happen is to get these projects done and over with. Anyway....I started painting. I was doing so well til coat #2. A spot on the ceiling, a stripe on the brown wall thats not supposed to get painted, as usual I backed up into wet paint so I have my normal ass print (you should see how many sweats, shorts and scrub pants have a huge paint mark on the backside from backing up...), and then to top it off, I thought I lost the cat.
I took the vent off, well, I guess its the air intake? I don't know what it is, but its a big grated thing that I had to take off the wall and it leaves a nice square that connects to a perfect cat sized air duct. I went upstairs to grab something...I swear I was only gone for like 30 seconds. I came back started to paint again and heard this banging. I looked down and realized the vent was off and Baxter was already snooping around in there earlier but I yelled at him and he ran off. I hear all this commotion and I start to freak out. Holy crap, I thought....lets be serious, it was language much worse than that but this is a family blog. Holy crap, the cat climbed in the duct. I start calling his name, got out all his toys, poured some food....no cat. He is trained like a dog....he comes when I call him, except now. So I start to panic. My mind started racing---who do you call when your cats stuck in an air vent? Is it like a cat in a tree when they're hungry they'll come down. He's too fat to turn around, is he smart enough to back up? I was so ready to throw up. I'm such a bad kitty mommy. No wonder the adoption agency won't let me adopt another. I decided to go in the unfinished part of the basement to start banging on the ducts to see if I could find him. And there the little Bastard was. Sitting there staring at me. I swear he was smiling like it was some sick game he was playing on me. For ten minutes I was like a crazy lady thinking the worst about this damn cat and there he is staring at me.
Brian and I, like I've said before, are working on multiple projects around the house. All the bedrooms need laminate flooring installed and painted, except for Brandon's room who just needs the flooring. The basement need painting desperately! We're getting new carpeting from the basement up two flights of steps to the hallway on the 2nd floor. So I figure, knowing my painting skills (or lack thereof) it would be smart to paint before new carpeting goes in. Brian's working OT tonight, so I figured I should put my "alone" time to good use and get some work done. We're on a mini time table---they are moving in April at the latest and the family (including all my family from PA) are coming March 1st for the girls joint birthday party. Having out of towners means I need places for them to sleep. And the only way to make that happen is to get these projects done and over with. Anyway....I started painting. I was doing so well til coat #2. A spot on the ceiling, a stripe on the brown wall thats not supposed to get painted, as usual I backed up into wet paint so I have my normal ass print (you should see how many sweats, shorts and scrub pants have a huge paint mark on the backside from backing up...), and then to top it off, I thought I lost the cat.
I took the vent off, well, I guess its the air intake? I don't know what it is, but its a big grated thing that I had to take off the wall and it leaves a nice square that connects to a perfect cat sized air duct. I went upstairs to grab something...I swear I was only gone for like 30 seconds. I came back started to paint again and heard this banging. I looked down and realized the vent was off and Baxter was already snooping around in there earlier but I yelled at him and he ran off. I hear all this commotion and I start to freak out. Holy crap, I thought....lets be serious, it was language much worse than that but this is a family blog. Holy crap, the cat climbed in the duct. I start calling his name, got out all his toys, poured some food....no cat. He is trained like a dog....he comes when I call him, except now. So I start to panic. My mind started racing---who do you call when your cats stuck in an air vent? Is it like a cat in a tree when they're hungry they'll come down. He's too fat to turn around, is he smart enough to back up? I was so ready to throw up. I'm such a bad kitty mommy. No wonder the adoption agency won't let me adopt another. I decided to go in the unfinished part of the basement to start banging on the ducts to see if I could find him. And there the little Bastard was. Sitting there staring at me. I swear he was smiling like it was some sick game he was playing on me. For ten minutes I was like a crazy lady thinking the worst about this damn cat and there he is staring at me.
I have never had a good pet/painting experience. Baxter has tried to sniff the paint which left his nose green. He felt the need to rub up against the wall so one half of him was brown. In my old house, our old dog, Duke, tried to drink the paint so his snout was all green and another time, he "pawed" at it and then ran when my exhusband caught him. Yeppers, you guessed it....paw prints through our bedroom.
After typing this, I'm starting to wonder....why the hell don't I pay someone to do this for me?
Here's some before/after pictures. Now, theres some of the basement. Its a mess, but its not always like that. That black shelving unit is getting tossed or pieces used elsewhere. The greenish/khaki mattress is for the futon we just moved down from Brandon's soon to be room. We had to take it all apart to get it down the steps, so its in pieces all over the place. The box....I've tried to get rid of it but its the kids "house." It has wood floor and everything. I'm hoping with the renovations there won't be room for it but I'm sure that idea will get squashed. The plan for down there is: where the black shelving is, we're putting a small media unit from IKEA to hold the flat screen TV which you can't see because it was behind me when I took the picture. Under the mattress are two chairs from IKEA, so they are going to face the TV and the futon is going to be the "couch" which will go where the kids play table is now, of course facing the TV. To the right of that, is my office/craft area. That just needs some paint. Its hard to tell in the picture but everything in front of the mattress (in the foreground) will be the kids play area. Their toy closet is to the right, we're getting big Billy bookcases with doors to hold everyones books and DVDs, and their play table will be moved there as well. Oh, and the house box, I'm sure. Everything will match and hopefully that room will turn out as planned. If it does it should be a good family/den. Plus its in the basement so I don't care if its not perfectly cleaned. But as you can see it definitely needs some work. Sometimes it feels so overwhelming! 
1 comment:
It's really shaping up. You may not see it because it is so overwhelming. I'm available to help this weekend if you want my help. Just call me and you can have 2 extra hands. Knowing my son, he'll say you don't need any help, but if you do I'm a phone call away.
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