I have been on my own for a week and a day while J. is in Wyoming dealing with some business issues that had not been resolved prior to our move. With a successful conclusion to those matters he can now enjoy a few days with our family there.
I am not one to go to pieces at the prospect of time on my own, and I worked up quite a mental list of
Things to Do during this week or more.
When one wants to tackle hefty projects it can be easier without the Man of the House to feed and care for.
As one friend put it when I told her of my projects, "You can eat crackers and cheese and get on with what you're doing!"
The most ambitious of my projects was to paint our bedroom.
When we bought the little house all the walls had been painted recently in a clean but uninteresting flat white. The woodwork is gloss white.
Back in May I had the notion that covering the bedroom woodwork with a color called "Cinnamon Swirl" would be a lovely way to add warmth and interest.
Within a few brush strokes I knew this ranked as a decorating nightmare.
Still, I had purchased the paint, from a line that was not cheap!
Each morning there-after I opened my eyes cautiously, hoping that the glowing peach of the closet doors was not really as blinding as yesterday. Of course, it was.
Several weeks ago my neighbor Gracie stopped by and we spoke of our mutual adventures in revamping a small local house. Gracie looked at the offending Cinnamon Swirl paint and suggested that returning the doors in the bedroom to white would greatly reduce the impact of the bright peachy color.
The cats and I decided to tackle this project.
In the above photo you see that masking paper spread on the floor makes a delightfully crinkly noise and can be used for games of hide and seek.
What you don't see is cats whizzing past my step-stool and around my gallon of paint at full speed.
With the doors restored to gleaming white, the Cinnamon Swirl" on the trim has been greatly subdued.
I have most laboriously covered the walls in a very soft sandy peach which has just the effect for which I hoped.
I cannot move the behemoth lodgepole bed to finish that last wall.
A friend, of even tinier frame than I, offered to come with her husband and move the bed!
My Amish neighbor, Delilah, suggested that her husband, Joseph, could likely shift the bed with no help at all!
Common sense prevailed, even as I ran out of paint after rounding the corner onto the 4th wall.
When J. returns he can shove the bed out of the way, I'll finish painting and when the wall is dry, he can reposition the bed.
[He does not, by the way, know that this project is underway.]
I once thought I was a tidy and efficient painter.
I'm pleased with the result of my work, but it has taken much longer than such an effort would have done a few years back.
I have been out of bed between 5 and 6 most mornings this week, to tend the horse and the barn kittens,
minister to the throng of pampered house cats and take advantage of the morning light for painting.
Friends and neighbors have been wonderful to drop by and make sure that I haven't toppled from a step ladder or languished in lonliness.
Next on my list is to "spackle" the bathroom walls which were left in such scabby condition when I tore off the wallpaper.
J. pronounced that it was beyond my skill level and I should wait for him to do it rather than "make a mess."
We shall see!
Perhaps I will have to admit that I can't accomplish that, but just perhaps I can!