Notes on Painting You House

I have never painted the exterior of a home before, I had no idea how exhausting it could be. Damon and I started Friday afternoon, and by Monday afternoon, we were almost done with everything but the trim. This morning, I could barely wipe my own bottom.

Painting one's own house also draws the attention to the many problems with the house. In our case, it is continuing to sink into the ground. We found multiple large cracks in the stucco. Cracks large enough to hide a lemur in. Well, maybe not a lemur- how about a flounder. A big fat flounder. Yes. Anyhow- I found many of these and discovered that our home is covered in multiple styles of stucco. One such place being the back of the house where it is NOTICEABLY different, and appears to have been finished by an amateur. How did I not notice this before?

I had moments of panic- wondering how long it would be before my house was swallowed up into some secret fault line or underground cave... But I reminded myself that this house is 70 years old, and was built directly on the ground. If this was the house I knew we would stay in forever, there would be major repairs on the docket. However, I see us here another 5-10 years, so for now, I will be thankful for what I have.

The house looks totally different. Wiser, somehow. From "pac-man" yellow to a plush pewter green. I am glad we sprung for high quality paint, it really does make a difference.

Pictures to come soon- The tippy top of the trim needs to be touched up. Then pictures.


Ooo- and I finally let go of my car Stan. Stan has been sitting in my driveway for over a year. Some part of me kept wondering what to do with him. He had 278,000+ miles on him. His alternator died (AGAIN), the oil pan was leaking, the 5th gear did not work, the A/C was broken, and the windows let rain in. (There was probably more, but I don't remember). We did not have the money to make him work properly, and it was only a matter of time before he broke down again. So he sat, waiting. With all of the renewal at our home, I decided it was time to let him go. Even now, I feel a pang of sadness, wanting to cling to him- I keep repeating to myself "when your hands are open to give, they are open to receive."