Painting the kitchen

OMG! The perfect day to open the windows.

Painting is something I do well. The painting part is the part I like doing most; I really don’t like the prep all that much. Frankly, I truly wonder who does. Give me a brush and I can generally paint a straight line, so much so that I don’t enjoy looking at the demarcation between ceiling and walls in most situations since I really prefer the work that I have done. Wednesday found me attacking my kitchen job that I wanted to do in the fall.

I had the ceiling paint and also the paint for the walls. Given that we have tumbled marble as a backsplash, there is not a lot of wall to be done. I decided, for once, given that my time to do jobs like this is fractured by my schedule at Oakton and with taking care of the grandkids, to do it in stages.

I decided to do the ceiling and get that out of the way. My issue was that there was a spot that had been damaged and repaired that concerned me, a reason to paint and make it look less obvious with another coat or two. I took a chemical sander, which I don’t overly like to use; it is a ‘liquid sandpaper, and wiped down the ceiling. It is supposed to make the surface greaseless and less glossy, more likely to accept the new paint. Luckily it was a good day to have open windows.

I quickly painted the trim, the area on the perimeter of the ceiling and around the light cans. Then I rolled the rest. At first, it looked really good, then as it was drying, I questioned it, as I always do. Now, over an hour later, it is looking more uniform. The question is, shall I recoat. I was, after all, painting white over white. My guess is yes, as I have the paint and another coat is easy, at this point.

This weekend, I am hoping to attack the walls. For now, recoating the ceiling is still up in the air, or rather above my head.

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Every day at this time, before the kids arrive, Stewart sits by this window and waits…

Patience is sometimes hard to come by. I see that inability to wait in the grandkids, my feelings exaggerated. We are all impatient. There is nothing more that I hate than waiting when I have decided something and then have to put up with watching the calendar and clock. The little ones are even more impatient. They hear you say to wait and then ten seconds later they are asking again. “Come on guys, let’s understand that we have to wait!” That is way easier said than done.

Right now, things are all prepared for the grandkids. I even got up and made a batch of crêpes. They so enjoyed them the other day that I decided since I was up that I would throw the eggs, milk, the tiny bit of oil and salt, together and quickly mix it up and allow it at least a little time to rest.

Patience is a commodity that is intolerable when the intolerable is occurring, like right now politically. It is not as if I want to wish my life away, but seeing the demolition of the few good laws that we had is hard to watch. Being patient there is, perhaps, not an option.

On a side note, does anyone else wonder about all those people we know who say nothing about what is going on? I know countless people who have been totally non-reactive. Does that mean that they are supportive of the awful things we are perpetrating on our fellow human beings? Are they sad but afraid to react? They seem to go about their daily lives and say nothing, as if nothing is wrong and yet political atrocities are happening at a frightful pace.

I think maybe I understand Nazi Germany all the more now.

Sometimes, one risks losing faith in humanity. Does humanity actually exist?

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No offense to shoemakers…

A rustic table with a granite top and a lower shelf with porcelain tiles.

My maternal grandfather was a special one. We used to look at so many of the things that he did and say it was a ‘shoemaker’s job,’ marveling at how little care he seemed to take to accomplish his task. I also view it in terms of many of the things that I have done around the house, although in my case, I didn’t have the training or preparation to really do it the way I wanted to. Nonetheless, I managed to make most of the things that I did look way better than what my grandfather did.

The irony here is that my grandfather’s home, and what I remember of it, was always perfectly taken care of and tasteful.

I also remember one time he came to help my mother out. She had a garage (and house as well) that would not hold any paint. Grandpa Bori went to the basement, found several partially full paint cans, mixed them together, and painted the formerly white back of the garage a hideous shade of brown.

This all brings me to my recent crazy idea for the laundry room. Due to the 1950s configuration, the laundry room wasn’t meant to have both a washer and a dryer. The laundry tub was put in place and the washer next to it, leaving little space for anything else. For years we had an odd configuration with an empty space in between. Now we have the dryer on top of the washer, but that space is still there. I had done a shoemaker job of taking some extra wood, turning it into a table to fit the space, and for years it worked fine. To spiff it up, I finally upped my game and bought a piece of granite to sit on the top. Today, I took the lower shelf and attached extra floor tiles I had to it. Now, extra ‘Sparkle’ and vinegar can be more easily stowed there and shoved to the back.

The only rub was due to the imperfections in the table. One of my sons cut the tiles, but since my measurements were slightly off on the back of the table, I had a bit of trouble fitting the tiles in.

So much for the shoemaker job…

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From my back door, as I face video cameras facing our house and yard, this is what I see. Until I used my new Canon SX740HS camera, I could not read the sign.

It is clear that the country is in distress.

It is clear that there are numerous people who are very much unhappy with the state of affairs, have been so for a long time, and whose opinions are not in sync with those of the majority. The majority has been toyed with by an electoral college that exists solely to keep a segment of our population under the thumb of those of us who are entitled and by tampering by forces from without. Without having the statistics under my thumb, I must say that this is what I believe.

Most of the people who live in my area are like me in my concern for a fascist tendency on our national government and by a total disregard for the true welfare of the people. We have not met the needs of the people who voted for the current régime. They are strangely disenfranchised.

The photo that I display is that of malbor’s sign, something he has placed next to his back door. I finally have proof of, perhaps, one of the reasons he hates me with such virulence. His political persuasion is the total opposite of ours. There has never been a discussion of politics. There has been discussion of politics on our part, in our back yard, something that would be possibly heard next door.

I saw signs of the political persuasion before; there was a confederate flag over a year ago which was met with concern on the part of his neighbor to the east. There has been a profusion of American flags, to the point that it is weirdly patriotic. There was also some sort of actual Trump sign, but it was not clear to me whether it was for or against.

No matter whom we choose to lead this country in the future, this disenfranchised group’s needs need to be addressed.

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Gray, Rain, Cold, AGAIN!

Yes, we have no lilies of the valley.

The traditional day for them in France is May 1st. It is not the same in the U.S., but usually, it is soon after. This year, it is already the 18th and there are no lilies of the valley. I do see the buds on the flower stalks, but given the weather of late, they still have to wait.

Today it is was supposed to be in the 80s. It is gray, raining, and 63 degrees. I got up in the morning and it was pretty cold. I came out of the gym and it was hot. I came home and within a few moments, it got cold again. I have changed from jeans to shorts and then back to long pants again.

I feel like my thoughts revolve around politics, or the lack thereof (perhaps I should not call idiotic behavior politics) and weather. The spring was non-existent and the winter has been really long, to the point of truly being annoying. We had no forsythia bloom, per se, and we have been teased with a warm day here and there, that is often warmer than it should be at this time. It has been a most awful spring, or maybe we should say transition from winter to summer.

I feel like a complainer.

Let’s talk about nice things. Let’s talk about the youngest grandchild sleeping upstairs. Let’s talk about the two cousins drawing and conversing around our dining room table. Let’s talk about my feeling good about going to the gym and doing an hour on the treadmill before a nice steam and shower.

Tonight, is a sleepover, if all goes well. The youngest are for sure, but their older cousin is still a question. At the very worst, we can take her home to her parents.

I need to go and make crêpe batter as I was asked to make crêpes tomorrow for breakfast.

I will also water the plants. Despite the bad weather, the cacti and Norfolk pines are now out of doors.

Okay, the crêpe batter calls…

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