By the waters of San Pellegrino, I sat down and blogged.

Dawn is upstairs finishing the walls. I’ve done as much as I can because 1) There’s only one ladder and 2) My knees and feet won’t take my standing on a ladder for long periods.

Oh Dawn, what hast thou wrought?

However, I can report that the room is looking FANTASTIC!  Seriously, we’ve done a wonderful job of saving a room that everyone told us couldn’t be saved without either a significant outlay of money or days of miserably hard work stripping what was left of the wallpaper, patching, skim-coating and then finally getting to the priming and painting.  We went right to the priming step, going right over the wallpaper.

Oh don’t look at me like that, we had a plan.  I told Dawn, I said: “Dawn, don’t take anymore wallpaper off.  It’s the only thing holding the fucking wall together.”  (Charles admitted I was right this morning.)  So we began with walls that looked like the photo at the left, only worse, patched a bit, primed, and base-coated, and the room was darn pretty with just the lovely, warm sand color she’d chosen.  (Benny Moore’s Woodrow Wilson Blush, it’s called, and well he should, we agreed.  I’d show you a photo of it but frankly it looks pink online and it’s emphatically not pink.)

But we persevered, and soon the area under the chair rail was a perfectly beautiful, intense blue called “Sea-something-something” which I also can’t show you because Google isn’t very good at figuring out what I mean when I use the “something-something” wild card in my searches.  But trust me, it’s gorgeous.  Dawn did two coats of that while I started the sponging.  Right now she’s finishing up the last bit of sponging on the upper part of the wall, and I’m swilling San Pellegrino and waiting for UPS to bring me cheese (Cotswold & Esrom) olives (picholine and tcharmela) and plants (a pair of violet-colored heuchera, a purple rose bush and three superb blackish-purple iris.)

Stuff like this puts me into high gear.  Last night as I scrubbed the paint, and a significant bit of skin, off I decided that the short story I was writing for a fiction call really needed to be a novella at least, and so I’m deep-sixing the plans to have it done by the 15th and starting to do an outline for the longer piece.  And I had Abe here all day doing all kinds of things so I can get busy painting and planting and mosaic-ing my little fingers to the bone.  Let’s hope this lasts.

So I’m going to go read some email and then work on my outline.  By then it should be nearly time to decide if we want to order supper or cook it.  Since it hasn’t started raining yet, I’m going to go for the latter.

Our supervisors. Can't skive off with these guys watching.
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