Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Painting the ceiling

I've been spending some time renovating my living room. It all started when I decided I need to bring a desk upstairs from the basement so that I had somewhere to put my sewing machine. But rather than just bring up the desk, put my sewing machine on it, and get to work, I decided before I could possibly do that, I should probably remove the fireplace...

So the fireplace was removed and obviously the wall behind it is a different colour than the rest of the wall necessitating the need to paint. And before I can paint the walls, I needed to paint the ceiling. Which is what I did this last weekend.

Saturday before lunch, I ran to the paint store. I bought paint, a pole to attach to the roller handle, and a tray lining to pour the paint into. The girl there asked me four times if I had everything I needed. I assured her that I did.

After lunch I came home, changed into my painting clothes, threw a bandanna on top of my head and started moving furniture. I was getting ready to tape when I realized I didn't have any. I thought it might be possible to get around not taping if I'm really careful, but then when I went to put the roller on the handle, I realized I had no handle...or safety goggles...or the tray to put the lining in.

I changed back into my regular clothes (keeping in mind that the hallway is packed full of couches and every time I have to go to my room I have to crawl over them then perform all kinds of acrobatics to actually get there). I ran to Rona and picked up all the supplies that I had assured the girl at the paint store I already had. Then came home and changed yet again.

I spread out the drop sheets, taped around the lights, donned the brand-new (too big) safety goggles, rolled the roller in the paint, and started painting. It was going along very smoothly for about five minutes. But then...the handle broke. Snapped right near the metal part that attaches to the roller. I ended up painting the rest of the ceiling standing on a chair covered in old pillowcases (that kept falling off every time I moved the chair), holding onto a little stub of the handle. I'm not sure if I can properly portray my frustration. Let's just say that what was coming out of my mouth was not very ladylike.

This week, I'll be prepping the walls and getting ready to paint them over the weekend. Hopefully, that won't be worthy of a blog post. Can everyone please cross their fingers that this goes a tad bit more smoothly? Thanks.


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