I think it's rather telling that my last post here took place when I turned the air conditioning on, and now it's very near the time of year when I can finally turn it off! (It should be nearer, I dunno WHAT is going on in Denver this fall. Other places are already decently chilly, why can't we dip our toes in the chill of Autumn???)
Today's big project is painting our bedroom, because my DH has fallen in love with a bedroom set (one of us had to and I've been looking and waffling and changing my mind and failing to commit to anything for about 5 years, now). There didn't seem to be much reason to paint (ok, in MY mind) until we were going to choose furniture and really do the room, so while other parts of the house have undergone major changes since we moved in, our bedroom was still mostly white-walled (and ok, I realize after moving furniture out this morning, dusty!).
I helped cut-in the edges after all the preparation of tarping and taping and spackling was finished. My assignment was the lower regions - baseboard, corners, around outlets. It's a ten foot ceiling, so DH got the pleasure of climbing up the stepladder and edging along the ceiling. Having fallen off a stepstool many years ago while painting, I heartily endorsed this plan. And I have to say, the soothing repetitive motion of easing paint onto a wall DID give me time to think and meditate.
For instance, I now know:
1. The chances of having a hot flash are much greater if I am in a particularly awkward position (i.e., painting far up over my head with the paintbrush at an angle to make sure the corner gets filled with paint. There's a subset to this observation; namely, the more awkward the position, the fiercer the hot flash.
2. Progressive lenses (i.e. those nifty hidden bifocals for you blissfully ignorant youngsters reading this ;)) are wonderful creations, but they are not the most effective invention for being able to actually see the wall when you paint. Again, there's some significant interpolation with the awkwardness of the angle. It did finally occur to me that I have computer glasses, and once I switched with those I was able to accomplish much better results. Or, I was at least able to see what a lousy job I was doing.
3. The silent rhythm of painting is a nice juxtaposition to the oldies rock station my DH had blaring on the radio. Sadly, however, the fact that "My Sharona" definitely took me back to memories of how I felt as a teen, it was unable to erase the pain in my knee and was powerless against the hot flash mechanism.
So now as DH does the big surfaces with a roller, I wait to view the finished product (after watching HGTV and Trading Spaces all these years, he knows how much I LOVE the "reveal."). The best part? It will be done! My body may be older than I like, but my spirit definitely remains impatient, instant-gratification-ly toddler at heart!