The handsome fellow above is arriving from Texas- Meet Toby (he’s a rescue from death row)
COMMENTS ARE HERE!
Alone, gentle reader, all alone, your devoted blogger managed to put the comments section ON THE SCREEN….
I think. Please, feel free to sign in- still unsure if that’s necessary- and let moi know you’ve stopped by.
Back to painting. Cover it up, cover it up- wipe it away. There’s almost nothing a new coat of paint can’t fix. But the thing is, like the language of flowers, there’s so much to be INFERRED by color…
an entire paint deck of inference…. the mind reels.
And I do, gentle reader, I do love white. But in it’s remoteness and billowy stark-ness it screams the very austerity the Greeks have been trying to avoid, I think. So much to ponder. So am marching f orward with bits of blue and taupe.
Yesterday spent ENTIRE afternoon cleaning and taping in preparation for Riccardo to come through and transform gun metal grey former teenager’s room into whispering toque white and light, light grey floors… am still on fence with floor and am tempted to leave as is- slap down some shag and see what happens- but a clean grey floor is SO much better- No?
The other space is a deep blue with white floor, I refer to the blue as the color of sleep, yet may be just too sleepy for others;
wtf, if they don’t get it then it’s not for them. These are the spaces which will be put to work chez moi. They are on the third floor and have their own bath, a sitting room and simply lend themselves to a multitude of uses- hence one strives to appeal to the widest demographic. But the preparation seems to be endless. It’s one long struggle with the rag, blue tape and shop vac. Ah yes. the shop vac.
Am now deeply smitten by shop vac. My first ever. Brand spanking new and just sucks up that nasty debris without a so much as by your leave. Really great, really powerful, really new. And yet, and yet.
Being middle aged myself, there are those pesky limitations that hinder one’s zeal. Ye old fibromyalgia and the ensuing tennis elbows of a non tennis player.
But that’s the beauty of paint. Once its on, all those things are covered away. That is of course, one prefers the Betsy Johnson-Ralph Lauren mashup I’ve been dabbling with in master bath (door knobs now in the mail).
Have been driving around with yet another toilet in the back seat. Commandeered a hapless roofer (who came to give me an estimate for the roof) to take it out of the car. Yikes. It was really heavy and I did pull the back a little bit, am in fear of stern disapproval from spouse. “Hayes, you shouldn’t be doing that stuff.” Hence, have begun calling movers to get proper quotes….. My goodness. And we’re off!
Other hot topics of this week’s discovery- how to really manage the blogging endeavor- having turned off ‘comments’ am unable to log in really to anything at all. I cower at the magnitude of mediabistro wordpress class offerings, marvel at the Paris Review’s zombie house blog posting. Oh my, theirs is http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2014/03/19/unhousing/ – that alone just seems so well- it’s easy to be 51 and intimidated. Heck.
The spouse glanced at progress today- was stern re: quality of work- bubbles under spackle on sheetrock, and tonight over cocktails, lamented the state of the house’s foundation.
THE HOUSE’S FREAKING FOUNDATION….http://www.thisoldhouse.com/toh/video/0,,20810744,00.html is how to repoint a brick foundation… I have my doubts… You know?