I really must be off my rocker if I think I can actually fit blogging into my life!
I mean, I don't even do social networks. I've seen them consume hours of my teenage daughter's time, much more than homework, and as OCD as I am, I could never go through the day without checking each and every one of my "friends" walls. I can't even keep up with real walls - the ones in my house that is - which despair-itly need my attention. Repainting the upstairs bathroom has been pretty high on the to-do list for a couple of years now, but after that last February downpour, the hall wall has jumped to top priorty. That was a month ago...
I walked down the hall past assorted family photos and there, between sepia toned parents and grinning first-born was what appeared to be a fist-sized water blister - right at eye level. I poked at it. It felt like a water blister too. Then I looked up. Sagging overhead, right where ceiling white met barn-red wall was another hugemungous blister, oozing rainwater. I'm talking it was the size of my face! I looked back at the smaller blister, directly below the headwaters, and of course I did what any logical person would do. I moved Mom, Dad and FirstBorn to safety, then pulled a nail out of the wall and popped that bugger! A stream of rainwater shot out onto the carpet as I tried helplessly to catch it in my cupped hands. The most I succeeded in doing was spreading out the flow so that the entire carpet was a damp mess and not a concentrated puddle. Carpets dry, so I wasn't too worried, but now instead of a blister I had saggy paint, which looked too much like my saggy jowls for comfort. And the threat of another eruption still loomed overhead.
I moved the remainder of the pictures to safety, which took some time considering the size of our family, and decided to let time and gravity work on the other blister. Meanwhile, Husband went up on the roof and slathered black goop on the seam around the chimney, which appeared to seal the leak. A week or so later and the wall was perfectly dry. Unfortunately, The Critters, a.k.a. my children, were as tempted by the loosened paint as I was by the blister, and like a scab, they picked around the edges opening a wound of white drywall. I couldn't blame them - especially since no one fessed up - since every time I walked past I had to fight the urge to pick at it myself. I tried to rehang the pictures strategically - photoflage, but you know, when you've lived with things in the same spot for so long, it messes with your mind to have them out of place. (I call that funk-schwei.)
So, now I have to repaint the hall wall. Oh, and the downstairs bathroom - I just never really liked the color. But not before I redo the upstairs bathroom, which will happen after I restain the exterior of the house, waterproof the deck, finish the mudroom and lay the rest of the rocks for the path out to the driveway. Yeah, I really don't have time for this blog... but here goes!
What an enjoyable description of daily family life ... love the terminology, "photoflage" & "funk schwei" ... think I'll borrow them the next time my dear ones demand an explanation for my OCD like behavior!
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to more of your lighthearted chronicles!
This drawing has been an inspiration of mine for years. From the moment you showed me the nuances of drawing a portrait at my dining room table when I was only 10 years old, I have been inspired to create and develop my talents. I hope someday to put them to use in the traditional sense but graphic design pays the bills for now. I hit many artist blocks & hurdles in my path over the years but I've always remembered this image among those that brought my love of art to the surface and gave my life purpose. Thanks Aunt Cindy! - Clinton
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