I think of it as The Glamour of Painting.
It’s when I finally get to roll the first coat of paint on the wall. It covers enough so I know for sure what it’ll look like when it’s all done. Big swipes with the roller covering huge areas of wall.
It’s quick and satisfying. It’s actually fun.
Then comes the trim, not as glamorous, but when I just start painting, I have the patience and skill to do a good job. My lines between ceiling and wall are pretty straight, even compensating for the wavy plaster of an old house.
I cheat on some of the moldings, painting the sides no one will ever see, unless they intentionally look, the same color as the wall instead of the color of the molding that it should be.
By the time I get to the window sashes I’m getting bored. The only thing that keeps me going is that I want to see if they actually look how I imagined they would.
That’s the good part.
But before I get to The Glamour of Painting there’s the prep work.
Pulling all the pictures off the wall, removing the nails and picture hooks and spackling the holes. Wiping down the walls with soap and water, which are so much dirtier than I ever imagined.
When I move the stove to get at the wall behind it, there’s two years of dust and a decaying pile of mouse droppings under it. I decide not to paint behind the fridge.
Everything I moved out of the kitchen on Saturday is still sitting on and under the dining room table.
There are three walls that need a third coat of yellow and I still have to scrape the widows.
Then there’s the touch up.
The first time I dragged a cart full of wood through the kitchen doorway I scraped the paint off down to the white. That’s exactly why I didn’t paint over the white cabinets. Before long they’d be chipped and peeling with all the use they get.
I’ll give them a fresh coat of white another weekend, when I’ve forgotten about the reality of the drudgery of painting and the clean-up. When enough time has passed that I can once get excited at the idea of having cabinets look as good as the walls.
But for now, even though the painting still isn’t completely done, and every time I want some cheese puffs I have to wander the dining room looking for them among the piles of kitchen stuff on the dining room table, when I walk into the kitchen I love the way it looks.
And so I’m glad I took the trouble to do it. The bright colors give me lift and make me smile, especially on these dreary November days.