The trouble with houses is that once they are all done, they're still not done. Hence my post title. (By the way, that's a complete myth. It's not true that once they'd finished painting the bridge they had to start again. Who knew?)
My new love in the world of paint is 'Soft Sheen' so I've mercilessly dumped ' Matt'. I was never happy with him, if you gazed up the long stairwell wall it looked patchy and you could see where one row of painting ended and the next began. With soft sheen you don't get that, and it's a lot more resilient to cleaning off the grubby little fingermarks that led to the whole paint job in the first place.
I have a long handled roller which is great for the high bits you couldn't normally reach. But what to do about the parts that cannot be rollered. The edges? The bits where wall meets ceiling? This led to what I think you'll agree is a damn fine invention.
I call it 'Brush-on-a-Stick'. (Patent pending.)
Look at this span...
Hurrah! I'll have to go into mass production and sell them on QVC. I'll make millions.
The day before all this activity, I talked my husband into allowing me to paint an old Edwardian wardrobe, so that remains in four parts all over the kitchen. I promised I could do it in two days. But by day two I just had to paint the entire stairwell. The kitchen is an obstacle course, that has to be fun right? Well, the cats are enjoying it.
It struck me that the pursuit of calm, tranquil, white interiors lead to mess and total chaos. We are ALWAYS in chaos. My husband is very patient most of the time and as for the wardrobe, I didn't specify which two days so that buys me some time.
Let's look at that stairwell again...
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| Soft sheen, I love you. |
The white stairs needed a freshen up too. I asked my husband if he needed the loo, hoovered all the way down, then wiped down every step and board to remove the last specks of dust and airborne cat hair in preparation for painting. Then my husband decided he wanted the loo. I told him no but he went anyway. This led to me screaming at him that I would no longer be doing ANY housework from now on. ''You don't anyway!'' he shouted back. I saw red, burst into the office and threw something at him. It was a cushion, which in hindsight was not the deadliest weapon but it was there. And I missed. But hopefully that was a serious warning to him.
And hopefully those walls will stay white for a little bit longer this time.
