Since I’ve submitted my final assignment for my on-line course with UC Berkeley, I’m hoping to blog more regularly.
Therefore, today, I painted our bathroom. It was an awful green—kind of bile-gone-bad green. We’ve been meaning to paint it from the day we moved in, but there kids, jobs, life, and everything else that took precedence. So, much later than we planned, it went from “that” green a light blue-grey/grey-blue.
I noticed that when I first started, I was meticulous about moving the tarp, keeping drips under control, and using the right brush or roller for each surface.
By the second coat—eight hours later—I was much less anal retentive, especially when lying on the floor painting under the toilet water tank. At that point my thinking was, “I can touch up the ceiling if I get a smudge on it, and “Goof Off” will remove the drips on the floor.
In my younger days, I would have cleaned and saved the brushes and rollers. At this stage, I know if I paint another room, I’ll pick up a new roller and pan as well as brushes, because it’s easier than finding where the old ones are. Besides, throwing away the old paint roller is probably more ecologically correct than using 600 gallons of water to clean up a dollar roller cover.
On that note, and since my fingers ache from holding brushes and rollers, I’ll end todays’ philosophical diatribe.
Way to go CAPT. I can honestly say that you channeled your inner Boatswain’s Mate by the second coat.:0)
Inside any officer worth his salt is a Boatswain’s Mate begging to come out!