Still painting. Well, not in the storm. But you know what I mean.
What I thought we could tackle in a week or so (good god I was naive) looks like it may turn into a month or two of exterior painting. DAMMIT.
It’s turned out that painting under the eaves is probably the seventh circle of hell. It is the most tortuous sustained body movement with your arms above your head and your lower back / shoulders aching while looking directly into the sun (plus I got giant chunks of paint stuck in my long luxurious mousy brown hair) AND it needs two, possibly three coats of paint. So you have to keep going back to this awful quagmire of hell torture even though you know the pain will come. Oh, and it comes.
Looks like every surface, even though we primed, is going to need two to three coats of paint. The two of us are painting the whole Brick House compound not once, not twice, but three times.
Saturday, after four hours of repainting walls and painting under long stretches of eaves, I kind of lost my mind and thought “We could just hire some people to finish this. We could just give up and get some help. Painting is the devil.”
Maybe it’s a good thing that we took a break on Sunday. The poor Boy has to continue painting all week by himself while I’m at work.
We still need to re-mortar this little chunk of the brick planter. It fell apart sometime over the years and needs to be chiseled down, stacked and cemented together before we paint it up.
The stupid chimney. This is far as I could reach on top of a ladder with an extension stick on my roller. Pathetic. We need to figure out how to get some paint on there. Three coats of paint.
The Boy did finish sanding and patching the last of the fascia on Saturday as I went totally insane painting under the eaves. So that’s a plus. Now we can just repaint it over and over and over and over and over and over…