Painting…. aching…. and yet another bad attitude.
It was that time. Painting time. Oh deep unbridled joy! The garage has been built all 45 square meters of it. All it needed was our input.
The day before, Ed announced that we might have to brush the first coat on, he thought that the roller wouldn’t be enough. Oh, more unbridled joy. With a staved thumb (see previous blog – Ed’s fault) there was no way I was going to last 10 minutes with a brush.
I was so looking forward to our day. Not. I have always hated painting, and have been known to do it really, really badly. Attitude? Yes. Another attitude, I seem to have one or two of them!
I was wanting to take the Mr Bean approach. You don’t even need volume to watch that video! Wouldn’t that be superb? So easy? Get a laugh? Messy? (yes).
First of all, the clocks had changed, an hour less in bed. So, got up and made brekky for us – Ed had already started work. Scrambled eggs, yum. Dishes, tidied kitchen, loaded the dishwasher, polished the kitchen, checked the dishwasher, polished the kitchen again, just in case. Oh, all done, better look interested.
The first thing that Ed wanted me to do was sweep the garage – HIS garage, WTF? He had moved the BMWs out of the garage, leaving the Harley on it’s jack. So, brush in hand, I started sweeping.
“Oh, I wouldn’t have started sweeping there!” Ed says.
Then the fight started.
Well, no it didn’t really, I told him that was where I wanted to start. I just knew he would say that. Damn Leos. No matter where I started, it would have resulted in, “I wouldn’t do it THAT way!” Comment was even made about how I was using the brush. “You KNOW how to use a brush!” Yup, I do! Then, I had to sweep the new garage. Phew, what an amount of dust!
In the meantime, Ed was tackling what was originally the outside wall. It doesn’t see the sun, so was covered in green yuck. Ed took a wire brush to it, then my job was bleaching the fungus off. With face mask on. I used the Karate Kid approach ‘polish on…polish off’. Just to even out the aerobic exercise! Scrub, scrub, sigh. Repeat.
There just had to be a comment.
“Oh, I didn’t think it would take you THAT long!”
The fight would have started, however, following an Annie-esque ‘menacing stare’, he came out with, “You ARE doing a good job though!”
Meanwhile, Ed was ‘cutting in’ the outsides with a 5″ brush. He was gutted to realise later we (read, ‘he’) had a 6″ one. (Brush, that is.)
It started quite well, however, my extendable roller, kept unscrewing itself. Half way through the first wall, I realised I was having an epic ‘fail’. Another roller – it seemed that I wasn’t getting off that lightly! He trusted me with his ‘second best roller’, it worked. Damn. 2 walls coated, it was 2pm, a wee juice stop and a sit in the sun. It would have been a lovely day for a run on the bikes. Hmmm.
My next job was the ceiling. Slightly ‘easier’ as it was plaster board. Not easier really, because I had to stand on a ladder. I don’t really like ladders.
So far, my hands and arms were covered in paint, my face was getting splattered and down the back of my neck too. My hands and arms belonged to someone else. Apparently, if you use your left hand, it feels like someone else is doing it, damn right, it looked like an incompetent blind elf had been wielding a paint soaked sponge, leaping up and down from floor level. Left hand didn’t work. The roller was getting heavier. I had to use two hands – well, actually, I had to start using two hands to hold the roller half way along the first wall – remember staved thumb.
One section of the ceiling done. I was giving up the will to live. Another juice stop. And a bag of crisps.
By 5pm, my hands were so sore, I couldn’t make a fist. At that point, I wish I could have made a fist. With all my ‘polish on…polish off’ antics, surely my punch would be pretty good by now? Nah, I couldn’t lift my arms above waist height. Grasping onto the roller wasn’t happening. 5.45, I had to call it a day. We were going out for supper to Ellen’s – thank god, Ed would have kept me working all night.
The end of day one, two walls and the ceiling are done.
The next day was erm… sore. I hate to think what Tuesday is going to be like…eek!
The list is long. Sore:
Ham strings (both legs, at least I was punishing myself equally)
I thought that was it. Nope, laughing seriously hurts.
Add stomach muscles to the list.
By the time we finish the garage, I might just have a 6-pack.
Hey, I didn’t lose my sense of humour, it was a close run thing. Next instalment of our paint-athon is on Thursday. The weather is to be pants, so no sitting in the sun! No riding the bikes, boo! Painting – yay! 🙁
Training today. Bending down was an issue. Writing on the flip chart was painful….. I had to let out a ‘sigh’ every time I bent down, standing up all day was good, for a change. I felt about 97 years old. I will be exercising the same group of muscles on Thursday. Brilliant.
ah, a right good old rant…
Don’t worry about the arguments….
There’s always Thursday……
You have a point. Oh god. Let there be humour! 🙂