One of the biggest, most timing consuming jobs of the whole renovation to date is what I am now referring to as “The Great Paint”. I asked Chris yesterday what kind of surface area we were covering with our whites and he guessed around 100 square meters. It has certainly been going on forever.
We took a week off this week and it feels like all we’ve been doing all week is paint. But the end is now in sight.
But of course it’s not just the painting. That’s the bit I come close to enjoying. It’s the other bits. The painting bits that aren’t painting. The moving of the stuff (building stuff) from room to room. The sanding of the walls, the hoovering up of the dust. The wiping down of the walls. The shaking out of the dust sheet, the moving and laying of the dust sheet in the new position. The stirring of the paint (or first finding an adequate tool to stir the paint), the finding of the correct brush.
The painting of the coving. The careful painting on the join. The edges and the blending. And then the painting of the walls.
The careful manoeuvres around the switches. The moping up of paint splodges that drop on the floor. The picking out of bits that get onto the walls. The avoidance of streaks, especially hard when you are painting white onto white…
And afterwards the dreaded washing of the tools. The paint pad (or painting weapon of choice) holding a seemingly endless amount of paint in it’s furry body…
I’ve lost count of the number of coats. The empty pots litter the floor like tombstones. Here once swam litres of gloopy silk white. But as that creamy gloop is gently stroked to our new walls our house is taking on a whole new lease of life. It’s light, bright and beautiful. The ugly duck is transforming into a swan.