i thought i would be done today but these old curvy houses are not particularly conducive to a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am school of painting. oh not, there are corners, there are festive curlicues, there are dainty bits of craved wood on the windows.
the result is lightheadedness, sorebackedness and an intense desire to move.
and we're not even done yet. the newly excavated fireplace needs to be (re)tiled and i'm not even going to mention the bathroom (oops, i just did!).
tomorrow marks the grand return of mister monkey and my hopes of presenting him with a freshly painted home might fall flat, unless i scurry home right after work and finish the living room off.
it's amazing, though, that no matter how hard this work is, and it is, 8-9h every day, i still prefer it to the psychological torture of my occasional paid labour.
i'd rather paint a dozen old-timey windows than scrape any more mouths. there is a certain zen peace to the whole procedure - the radio plays, i move my step ladder from wall to wall, paint, sigh, swear at the plastic for shifting, snap at the paint for dripping, talk back to harper whenever he makes an inane remark on the news, and then paint some more.
perhaps this is my new career...hmmm.