The Final Analysis of...
Paint!
It is now twenty years since Kelson and I painted the Lodge, with some help from our friends. Kelson did the entire outside, in oil base blue. He spilled it, stained rocks, swore a lot, but got it done in less than two weeks. The neighbors were astonished.
Likewise the bathroom was done in oil base: the walls a tasteful creamsicle orange, the ceiling a dusky lilac.
The rest of the house was painted with water based paint.
The outside of the house now shows some flaking, but the color is pretty true. Had we not had major construction to do in the bathroom, there would have been no need to paint. The color is as sharp and true as it was the day we painted. It has been washed, and it holds up.
The rest of the house is faded, worn off, non-washable by any but the strongest of imaginations. It has been suggested that faux finishes are the result of people trying to wash water based paint. It doesn't work. It if move a picture, the spot behind it is a totally different color. In places it is simply washed through.
Eric, who is still doing the bathroom, could not handle the smell of the oil based paint, so he hired Patrick, who is Irish and who did it just fine. I nearly passed out the second day, although I rather like the smell, because as soon as the painting started the temperature dropped. Patrick papered over the place where a door should have been and I survived.
The new color scheme is a little bolder than before. Diana says it is not quite CalTrans orange. The purple is really purple. Eric was shocked when it saw it, but quickly changed his mind and decided he liked it. Grandson Evan said it was hard to believe that something in those colors could be comfortable, but that it was.
The way the light works, when you look in the mirror you look good. That's bottom line.
And then, the tea house was opened. But I won't write about that until Diana gets all the pictures up on line, so that you can see what I am talking about.
The book has ground to a standstill.
We finally did two dump runs, one for yard recylcling, during which Jonathon broke the pitchfork and we discovered that it was made so that it could not be repaired. The second one was a week later, and we ended up with a flat tire and the kids late for gymnastics.
I have been working at the Petaluma museum, as Mark Twain. It is the town's sesquicentennial, and Mark Twain did speak there. You can find out more by going to timegames.org.
I am low on vitamins and money. My lettuce is not doing well this year. I am exhausted, and I have a bump on my toe: did I mention the 22 hour days I have been putting in, and having to walk the last mile uphill to my house at 2:30 in the morning because some idiot set fire to the old, abandoned bar down the road?
I am back to running with Byron after school on Thursdays.
I am looking for someone to write me a blurb on the new book. So far, all the authors I have asked are too busy to read it.
All for now. Just thought you would be amused to find that I am still alive and striking out.
It is now twenty years since Kelson and I painted the Lodge, with some help from our friends. Kelson did the entire outside, in oil base blue. He spilled it, stained rocks, swore a lot, but got it done in less than two weeks. The neighbors were astonished.
Likewise the bathroom was done in oil base: the walls a tasteful creamsicle orange, the ceiling a dusky lilac.
The rest of the house was painted with water based paint.
The outside of the house now shows some flaking, but the color is pretty true. Had we not had major construction to do in the bathroom, there would have been no need to paint. The color is as sharp and true as it was the day we painted. It has been washed, and it holds up.
The rest of the house is faded, worn off, non-washable by any but the strongest of imaginations. It has been suggested that faux finishes are the result of people trying to wash water based paint. It doesn't work. It if move a picture, the spot behind it is a totally different color. In places it is simply washed through.
Eric, who is still doing the bathroom, could not handle the smell of the oil based paint, so he hired Patrick, who is Irish and who did it just fine. I nearly passed out the second day, although I rather like the smell, because as soon as the painting started the temperature dropped. Patrick papered over the place where a door should have been and I survived.
The new color scheme is a little bolder than before. Diana says it is not quite CalTrans orange. The purple is really purple. Eric was shocked when it saw it, but quickly changed his mind and decided he liked it. Grandson Evan said it was hard to believe that something in those colors could be comfortable, but that it was.
The way the light works, when you look in the mirror you look good. That's bottom line.
And then, the tea house was opened. But I won't write about that until Diana gets all the pictures up on line, so that you can see what I am talking about.
The book has ground to a standstill.
We finally did two dump runs, one for yard recylcling, during which Jonathon broke the pitchfork and we discovered that it was made so that it could not be repaired. The second one was a week later, and we ended up with a flat tire and the kids late for gymnastics.
I have been working at the Petaluma museum, as Mark Twain. It is the town's sesquicentennial, and Mark Twain did speak there. You can find out more by going to timegames.org.
I am low on vitamins and money. My lettuce is not doing well this year. I am exhausted, and I have a bump on my toe: did I mention the 22 hour days I have been putting in, and having to walk the last mile uphill to my house at 2:30 in the morning because some idiot set fire to the old, abandoned bar down the road?
I am back to running with Byron after school on Thursdays.
I am looking for someone to write me a blurb on the new book. So far, all the authors I have asked are too busy to read it.
All for now. Just thought you would be amused to find that I am still alive and striking out.