I realized the other day that I have painted the rooms of all four of our grandchildren. Today, I put the first coat on our eldest granddaughter’s bedroom walls, while she is out of town with a friend. It is a very special trip as she is visiting with her friend and her friend’s grandparents in another state.
For the longest time, it was a given that I was going to be painting her room. For some reason, it has lasted a long time on the docket. A few years ago, I had painted her sister’s bedroom, a beautiful robin’s egg blue. She wanted me to do the same, but in a different color. Today, I put a coat of her preferred color on the walls. Tomorrow, I will put a second coat on to and do touch ups where needed. Our son had done the ceiling the day before and also painted the woodwork and doors. She will be home in a few days to enjoy our work.
I had painted our other grandkids’ bedrooms more than a few years ago. I doubt that they are even aware of it. Seeing our grandkids is a joy unequaled.
My painting habit is an old one, originally brought about by need and the inability to hire a professional painter. In my family, we all painted. I started out with Sears paint, back in the day, using latex paints. That quickly morphed into using oil base paint when we first got married. I loved painting with oil base and even found that in some ways it is less messy than the latex. I have a terrible disdain for the use of tape when I paint. My disdain is only for myself as I make more mess with tape than I do by my slow, still steady, hand. I can pretty much paint a very straight line and do so even in an almost 100 year old house, as I did today. My father-in-law always marveled at how slowly I painted, but my paint jobs have caused me to dislike anyone painting for me, unless it is a family member. My mother-in-law loved my painting.
Today, clean up from flying paint was at a bare minimum, partially because of the Benjamin Moore paint (which I myself don’t choose to use because I was annoyed at a bad batch of Benjamin Moore paint), partially due to the fact that my son and I are not messy painters.
I am on our patio, sipping an Aperol Spritz and thinking of those grandkids.