I’m not really a good painter. I mean I can paint and I can paint a window without tape on the glass and do a pretty decent job, but I rush and I make mistakes. YES, there, I said it, I make mistakes. And sometimes they cause us all more work.
Also I am a messy painter. I get more paint on myself then one might think humanly possible. I guess it’s better that it gets on myself than on the walls in the wrong spot but I wonder, how do I get it all over myself? So I must come to terms with the mystery of the messy painter. I suppose it makes me more interesting to have a certain mystery about me. Probably not “this” mystery but it’s a start.
I can’t make hardboiled eggs. I make really good deviled eggs, but I can’t make them without the shell pulling off the egg and making the white part a mess. I have tried everything. Ice water, sitting for 20 minutes, I mean you name it I’ve tried it. I have to come to terms with I can’t make hardboiled eggs. But if someone else can do it I have been making really good deviled eggs. My secret ingredient? Celery seed. Yummmm, and now not so secret.
I will never keep up with the dog hair, or Jorden’s room. Mostly I can’t keep up with Jorden’s room because I haven’t tried, he’s 13, the dog sleeps in there and well he’s 13. And I guess the #1 reason is,, I don’t want to. Is that bad? I think it should be the Papa’s job. Don’t you? I mean boys do boys room and I’ll do Zenah’s room. I think that’s just the way it has to be. So I have to come to terms with if that’s the way it’s going to be than that’s the way it’s going to look. I don’t have to go upstairs.
And last but not least, I will never be 5’7 and weigh 120.
Other than that, I tried to finish painting the guest room/music room/den this morning, which went into the afternoon. I think I’ve done a bad enough job that Phil won’t expect me to do it again. I’m just like the kids. The paint wasn’t going on very well. I don’t know if it’s the paint or the 9000% humidity today. But it was very sticky. Still looks lovely though. No reveal yet. Maybe tomorrow.
We had a good night at Jorden’s open house last night. Very crowded. I like all the teachers. He had a lot of acknowledgement from different friends throughout the night. Seems like he’s fitting in quite nicely. And his grades are still good. How about that? I had to punch Phil in the arm cause he was going to say something bad about one teacher. Doesn’t he know that kids pick up EVERYTHING the parent says? I feel bad though. I think I hit him pretty hard. Does that make me abusive? I mean I didn’t really mean to hit him hard but I wanted him to shut up before he said too loudly that the teacher was stupid. It’s all that working out at the YMCA and my new-found strength. Maybe I need therapy. Well I know I need therapy, that’s a given.
Tonight is date night. We’re going to look at a piano and then out to dinner back at our favorite beach. I’m not sure if the rain will stop long enough for us to walk on it but nevertheless we are headed that way. Hopefully we will get a game of billiards in as well. It’s been awhile since we’ve had a competition.
And that reminds me, something that Philip must come to terms with….I AM NOT A PIANO MOVER. There I said it. I am NOT moving a piano, but I do hope we get one tonight for the new room!
Okay that’s it. Gotta run. Gotta get the girl, make Jello for the boy (I’ve been promising) clean up myself and various drop cloths used in painting. It’s garbage night…I mean the chores are endless. There’s a lot to be said for hired help.
More clicking, more buying.