Laboring away on paint project over three-day weekend
What does Labor Day weekend mean to you? Well, probably not what
it’s meant for. Very few of us take the opportunity to honor our
working men and women, which is the reason for the day in the first
place.
Laboring away on paint project over three-day weekend
What does Labor Day weekend mean to you? Well, probably not what it’s meant for. Very few of us take the opportunity to honor our working men and women, which is the reason for the day in the first place.
For about 99.3 percent of us, it’s just another three-day weekend, an excuse to sleep in, party, have backyard barbecues and in general say goodbye to summer.
Because it’s not the autumn equinox that marks this end of the season – the end is Labor Day, and it marks our return to a life that revolves not around vacation, but around school schedules, work, and the downward slide toward the end of the year.
But for me, Labor Day is something far different.
It’s the weekend when I paint.
No, not artsy stuff. I’m no good at that, although I wish I were. I mean I am painting my bedroom, a bathroom and some other stuff.
You have to realize that I always have a painting project of one kind or another. This year I’ve decided it’s time to finish them all.
For instance, I have a half-painted wall in my bedroom which has been half-painted for about five years. Way back when, I applied a shade of yellow (which rather resembles the color of Grey Poupon mustard) to part of the wall, just to see if I liked it or not.
Sometimes you have to live with a color for a while to see how it goes. Well, I’ve been living with it for five years, and it’s still okay with me.
However, I never did get around to painting the entire wall. Life got in the way, in the form of kids, pets, a divorce and other minor details.
So now it’s time to get the thing done.
There’s also a bathroom that was remodeled (a mere six months ago) that needs new paint, as well as some touchup on the outside of the house that’s been overdue for a while now. There’s a back door in need of serious help – I have a cat who likes to stick his claws in it and hang there – so that one needs some wood putty, too.
However, unlike most people, I don’t consider painting a horrible job. In fact, I rather like it.
Strange as it may sound, for me painting has kind of got a rhythm to it that becomes meditative after a while, very Zen. I can lose myself in painting and getting every little thing just right, and shut out the rest of the world.
However, I just don’t like to be interrupted while I’m in the midst of it. Also, I like to get it over with in a day or two. There’s too much prep and cleanup involved, so I’d rather just do it all at once and be done with it.
But with my life, not being interrupted is a rather tall order.
Labor Day weekend, however, seems fairly safe. Most of the people who would be calling or dropping by will be out of town or otherwise engaged. The weather will probably be right – not too cold, not too hot – which is important for how the paint spreads and dries.
My son Hunter will be around, but he won’t bother me much, since he rarely does. He is good at keeping to himself, and besides, he’s trying to get in lots of computer gaming before college starts in a few weeks.
So it’s a perfect time to get out the drop cloths and the paint brushes, the trim tools and the tape, the scraper and the stir sticks.
After all, five years is a long time to live with a half-painted wall.
