I can bet your beautiful snowy Sunday wasn’t nearly as fun as my snowy Sunday. It all began over breakfast; Gary said “I would really like to get the upstairs finished so let’s (as in ‘me’ not ‘him’) paint the floors up there and be done with it”. Well, as you know…it’s not as simple as just going up and painting the floors, there’s a lot of prep work that has to be done
which he seemed to be unaware of if you want your glossy white paint to stick to the 95 year-old pine floors. Prep as in getting on your old-ass hands and knees and sanding, then vacuuming, then vacuuming again, then going over it with the most horrible of inventions: the tack cloth. I swear it’s cheesecloth that has been soaked in that junk they use on fly strips. God forbid. But it’s essential because the last thing you want is sawdust in your glossy white paint. Let me tell you, there are quite a few scents that I like….the smell of an old meat market, petroleum products, that new car smell and lumberyards. Yep. Love the smell of fresh cut wood…..but I don’t love it when it’s flying around in my house, getting in my eyes, ears and nose (see photo) or God knows where else. I swear, between drywall dust and sawdust, this cottage will never be the same.
I’m quite a competitive gal and I also like it when you can make icky things just a bit more ‘funner’. Yep. That’s a word, I swear. So, I decided that Gary and I were going to have a competition of the sanders; dualing sanders. (Cut to the banjo music) Split the room in half and the first one done gets the prize….I can’t tell you what the prize is because it’s only make believe; no real prize except that the bedroom was sanded in record time! I felt like I was at an Indy Race and I was the one in the pit changing tires; man can I change out my sandpaper like a pro!!! Gary strapped on his trusty knee pads and I my safety glasses and we both sanded away, not speaking a word during competition because neither one of us was going to lose, but I have to say, he may have had the upper hand because he had a new and improved (purchased this morning after breakfast when he decided
we I was going to paint the floor) Ryobi Palm Sander and I had my trusty 10-year old Black and Decker model. The one with the electrical tape wrapped around the cord, the one I named Brad. (Just kidding, makes me think of the Liberty Insurance commercial which has absolutely NOTHING to do with this post) The entire race was neck in neck, but unfortunately I had two boards left and he was finished. Damn. I’m pretty certain though that I did a better job, I’m more thorough due to my itty bitty OCD issue, so I’m going to crown myself the victor. While Gary is now resting his weary old bones, I’m going up to caulk and prime the bedroom, hall and landing. I’m pretty excited because I know tomorrow I get to do it all over again with the finish coat. Then when I’m finished with all that fun, I get to start on the stairs; yippee skippee I have something to live for!
Don’t get me wrong, I love living in this 95 year-old cottage, but while I was sanding I couldn’t help but think that when we die, Marc will most likely knock the house down and build a mini-mansion. Why not? Golf course in the backyard, lake in the front yard….who could ask for more? I just hope he’ll recycle the damn wood I’ve been slaving over before the cottage is a pile of rubble. Y’all have a good night, I’ll be upstairs if you need me….and keep following us….the photos of the finished floor will be posted soon. See? Now YOU have something to live for!