I am an avid house project kind of person, when I’m not writing. With YouTube, Google, Logic and Experience latched into my toolbelt, I know no bounds. I’ve embarked on everything from upcycling, painting, tile work, gardening to other DIYs. I have chanted the oft repeated phrase: “Can I fix it? Yes I CAN!” until the neighbors took up a timeshare in the Bahamas. I have also have run into my fair share of mischief and oopsies (that’s a technical term) along the way. Painting is one of my favorite DIY projects to do.
Today, I began to paint some heater vents that were original to our house. I think they were last painted in 1647 by the looks of them. In my zealousness to try out my new paint and sponge painting technique, I got the very white paint all over my hands and even (as I discovered anon) in my hair. This paint (I did not realize until later) has primer in it. Primer in Latin means “forever with you, sucker.” I looked it up. I then realized (anon, again) that I have a hair appointment tomorrow morning with my hairdresser (in order to look like a halfway decent human being, etc.). The saint, my husband, turned to me and said the following after I bemoaned I couldn’t get said paint off my hands and probably wouldn’t have much luck with my hair before tomorrow’s appointment.
“Don’t worry; you look beautiful.”
“I look like a pigeon who poo’d on itself.”
And that, ladies and gentleman, is a glimpse behind the mirror of my writing, humor and life. Please remember to tip the attendee on your way out. All proceeds go towards pigeon safety training, feeding times and rehabilitation. Coo coo, cachoo.