Cider Press Hill

Painting day

Friday, 10:20 am

By Kate




partly cloudy

Today I have painters in my house. They are painting my ceilings—a job that I determined I just wasn’t going to do. Although, now that I’ve watched them for a while, it was probably a foolish notion that someone else could do the job better than I can. It really isn’t that complicated. And I’m really, really picky. Possibly even a perfectionist when it comes to these kinds of things. And well, you know, it’s not perfect. And it will drive me crazy. And I will drive the painters crazy.

I should probably at least allow the primer to dry before I open my mouth. So far, I’ve held on to my restraint. I’d really rather they didn’t quit before they’re finished.

One thing is for sure—with all my stuff piled into the middle of rooms, covered with drop cloths, it opens whole new vistas of decorating possibilities. Also shows me where I might do a better job of cleaning....

Meanwhile, Abbie is crouched in the basement in terror. There are STRANGE PEOPLE in her house! There are THREATENING and CRACKLING plastic drop cloths all over EVERYTHING! There is the SMELL of EVIL PAINT. It’s all too much for a timid little kitty. Poor kid is beside herself. I put her through an awful lot, she would say. She might also say that I owe her for this HORRIBLE day.

The second coat of paint will get rid of the streaks, right???