We accomplished some monumental tasks today, things that from the outside might seem minor, but from in here were major sticking points. Neither of us left the house today, and neither of us got gussied up even once. To be honest, I'm not even sure I remembered to brush my teeth this morning. We dove right into house projects and never looked back. I finished painting the bedroom, so the Mister could re-rearrange the furniture in there. I was tempted to start making the curtains so that room can be considered completely done, but as soon as I mentioned it, I got The Look. The one that says don't be an idiot, we have far more important things to do today.
He tried to prioritize opening and emptying boxes, so that we destroy the illusion of the house being full, when in reality it is just loaded with boxes, and the cabinets and storage pieces are empty. Lucky for me, as I rolled on paint (and fumed over The Look), I remembered why I wasn't prioritizing the same way he was. The boxes in my dining room and my piano bar are fancy dishes and booze, if I recall correctly. But the China hutch and the liquor cabinet need to remain empty until the main floor is painted, so we aren't smashing the things we mustn't break while we scoot them around. The plan to paint upstairs is very specific, and must go in order, so when I told him I wanted the door off its hinges today, I wasn't kidding. It has to be the first domino to fall. It gets to be the pewter gray paint full strength, and the rest of the room plays off of it.
Mr Smith took the solid wood door (that weighs a ton) out back to sand off the ruined urethane, and even with all the fresh air around it, the smell of old dusty wood was overwhelming. It was like being in a church basement. I refused to try to paint outside in the heat, wanting neither the paint to seize up nor my own self to pass out. We rigged up a sawhorse substitute inside by putting four dining room chairs together and draping an old drop cloth over them. Since that happened this morning, there has not been a single moment where there wasn't at least one cat snoozing in the cool fort that dad built. (Does that make it Fort Smith?) They are going to be so disappointed when we pull it apart in a few minutes and rehang the door, so that we have some sort of privacy for the first time all day. The painting went well, but there are so many little grooves on the panel door, it was impossible to get it all done with just a roller or brush. As I told the man, if I was told I could no longer do all my finessing and touch up work by finger painting, I would give up tomorrow and never try to paint again.
Between side one and side two, my primer and color coat mixed ever so slightly in the paint tray. It was a little preview of the shades I will be coming up with to paint the rest of the room (hopefully starting tomorrow). I think we made the right choice to follow this plan of action. The three shades of gray from the one mis-tinted can are going to look terrific. The darkest color on the door already is a winner.
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