Well, how about I paint over them in a moment of madness starting after dinner and proceeding into the next morning?
This photo may or may not have been taken at 3am, I can’t really remember, where’s my coffee?
My Dad is here and when he saw me start slopping out the paint without taping or putting down drop cloths he bit his tongue and tried not to have a heart attack.
I’m a very good painter…..most of the spills go directly on me and my clothes, these jeans didn’t have paint on them before dinner.
I woke up this morning to see this. Good Lord. When will the clean-up crew be here? What? They were never called?! I have to clean it up? No, no, no my contract clearly states…..demolition only.
Fine, I’ll clean it up. This is going to require a lot of coffee……where’s my coffee cup?
 This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out:
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We worked on the dining room wall again today, but only after I started ripping wallpaper off in the kitchen. More than one of my children said to me, “Uh, don’t you think you should finish the other walls before you start in here?” Kids, they think they’re so smart.
Anyhoody-woo, after I finished…let me say that again, a lil’ bit louder now, AFTER I FINISHED taking the wallpaper border off in the kitchen, I went to work in the dining room. I spackled, taped, sanded, spackled, sanded, scraped, sanded and sanded. I stood on a stool while I was working and my husband took every opportunity he could to walk by me and honk my tush. His downfall was when he decided he’d poke me in the rear with a toothpick. I had a metal scraper in my hand and my reaction was to scream and whack him and hard as I could with the sharp edge of the scraper. He was very sorry, but laughed through his pain. Dummy.
I would have kept working on the wall, but Ike decided to puke over the side of his bunk onto his brother’s bed and all over the floor. After we got his bed and him cleaned up, he repeated the whole scene. Fun times! So, I started the mountain of pukey laundry and went to bed. Then, Levi started to cough and cough and cough and cough….repeat every twenty minutes. So, at 1:27am Clay decided to go to the store to get him some cough medicine. That Clay, he might be a gigantic nuisance to live with, but he’s an awfully good daddy and he wants to mentioned as often as possible in my posts, so that his number of posts is at least second on my side bar. And he made me that new header up there.
This morning is the first day of our spring break. It’s raining, Seth started puking and the dining room walls are looking at me with desperation. Poor Seth finally invited a friend over to play after we’ve been here for six months, and he woke up puking. Darn it. Anywady-hay, I sure hope this isn’t a picture of what our spring break is going to be.
Dining Room in progress. Did I mention I have company coming tomorrow?
 Little Mr. Pukeomatic.
This is the area in the kitchen that had the wallpaper border. This picture is before we moved in. That’s why everything looks nice and tidy.
I found this post unpublished and unfinished and thought it was time to share it with the world. Because why would I want to keep anything in my life private? Why? That would be silly.
Once upon a time there was an illustrious, somewhat young woman with decorating talents that shone so brightly people donned their Sean John sunglasses to catch a glimpse of her handiwork. Or so she thought.
One day, not so long ago, possibly it was last December, she drove to a ladies tea to decorate a single table in which she had delightfully volunteered her talents. Oh, she was so eager to show her expertise, she knew there would be mouths agape at the beauty of her table. In fact she knew her table would be so beautiful that the other measly women with no decorating talents who had volunteered would feel terrible and flee to the nearest restroom stall to cry on the industrial size roll of toilette paper.
The woman was not a heartless ignoramus so she packed some of her extra, delicate, decorations to help the piddly women that were obviously not within reach of her savvy fair.
As she drove to the event, she collected her thoughts for an interview that was sure to follow after her talents were revealed at the ladies tea. She spoke aloud to the feigned interviewer, ignoring fellow motorists squinting their eyes and raising an eyebrow at her, they were obviously blinded by the glow emitting from her Dodge Caravan.
“Thank you for having me Martha, I’ve loved your little shows for years. Sorry about your stint in the slammer, but I must say, you’re looking fabulous darling. I’m so excited to share my talents with you and the world. I mean it’s so easy to be me, really, the talent is just naturally oozing out of my tiny pores on my small delicate frame. I know. I’m wonderful. Thank you. Oh, yes, you noticed that I’m also stunningly beautiful and my outfit is flawless, I know, again thank you, but really, no need to keep congratulating me on my success as a designer-director-writer-publisher-editor-actress-model-chef, it’s really what I was born to do and I wouldn’t want the world to miss out on……ME!”
to be continued……
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