Getting there - Day 4

   So I figured I would inundate you with more gory details of my week's progress. I managed to get out and buy another gallon of paint this morning, as well as supplies for dinner this evening. I returned home with all my purchases, bent my head to the floor, took a deep breath and picked up the paint brush. It began. I edged everything, blotting out the peach from my world. I rolled the edger around and around, but also wielded the paint brush into corners it could not reach or precision areas around the ceiling. I just painted the ceiling yesterday and damned if I wanted to do that again! Careful, careful and around we go! Amazingly, I finally met up with the beginning. I put the paint brush down and turned to my next weapon of choice; the roller.Ah, a beautiful thing that just seems to make work go quicker. Slip roller into tray, saturate roller with paint, whisk roller to a new spot on the wall and continue. Roll, roll, roll. The radio occasionally rhymed off the hour and I half-hazardly noted the minutes disappearing in my day.

   "Must keep rolling", I advised myself. "I will feed you when we are done.(if there is any edible food in the fridge)."

   What a slave driver! I reached the end of the room and the end of the can of paint at miraculously the same time. Oh joy, oh bliss the can covered it! Even better, I could eat! No rest yet though. I had 45 minutes to eat, make dinner, clean the bathroom and somewhat mop the floors. I slapped together a mediocre sandwich of cheese, pickles and lettuce (home-made pickles don't you know!) and ate it while I dumped beef into a pot. Chili was on the menu for the adults and the children were to dine on gourmet hot dogs. Yum. When the onions and tomatoes sizzled and simmered I retreated to the bathroom. I cannot stand a dirty bathroom and the dust was killing me! So, while occasionally popping out to stir the chili pot and through in a spice or two, I whicked away the offending drywall dust that had accumulated everywhere. With the bathroom more sparkly, I tasted the chili, added more chili powder and pulled out my swiffer wet jet. I feel silly for even owning one of these new fangled fad-things, but it did the trick in the hallway. I only managed to unearth the original wood in the hallway and add more spices to the chili pot before it was time to go. The kid's daycare was closing early, so It would all just have to do. Here is what you have been missing.

So far I have one coat of paint throughout, but another coat is yet to be done. If I could finish there I would be thrilled, but alas, there is much trim to paint. Baseboard, crown mold and a bay window need freshening up before I can call this little project near to done. What else could I possibly have to do, you ask? Just the last ugly task that will probably just about kill me. Yes, to clean. Lord, I wish I was a better house wife, but I hate to clean. Bathrooms are an exception, but the rest of my house challenges me. At present there is a nice fat coating of dust on just about everything. The floor is the easy part. I tried to be smart and move plants to safer climes, but there are a few that I could write my initials on at present. If I can keep my momentum going, it will be a wonderful, deliriously happy day that I will be able to celebrate, but I also know me too well. I seem to have a knack of not quite finishing projects (note: my basement renovations from last year were immaculate and done, but for the runner on the stairs, that never got purchased, let alone installed ...sigh) Please let this project wind up smoothly and completely done. Please, please and soon! I know that my will will fade before I can blink and I dread another unfinished mess. so to paint again I go... tomorrow!

Change of plans for Day 3

There might be a slight change in final deadline in my present project. My littlest girl was up last night throwing up. Once just after bedtime and then again at 5:30 AM. She was fine this morning, but banned from daycare for the day. Alas, alack-a-day, what can I say? I still managed to clean the walls this morning, in between setting up craft projects. We just had macaroni and cheese (her absolute favourite). When she goes down for nap, I will paint the ceiling. I don't anticipate the walls will see paint today now. Hopefully tomorrow...
Ciao

Mud wars

I have taken a break for lunch. My living room looks like a mud bomb went off there. It is absolutely, insanely covered in blick mud. I am going to embarrass myself by showing you the work in progress.

This is what my living room wall looks like at the break.

   This is all fine and dandy, but the next step is going to be infinitely worse. Once all this skim coat is dry I have to sand everything. Now we are talking serious mess. uuhhhh...

   Ok, I have to go and get some old sheets to drape over everything that is still in the living room. See ya later! When you see me next I am sure I will be looking like Casper the ghost, but I will be one step closer to paint. Gotta go...

Step 1: Ugly wallpaper gone

Oh my GOD! What have I done? This is going to be SOOooooo much work! Ackk.

What pray tell am I talking about? This...

And this...

And even down here...

   Renovations begin again. The wallpaper is gone thanks to help for my good friend Nancy, but the work is just beginning. The wallpaper peeled off a good chunk of paint with it, thankfully taking the backing with it, but jeez! Now I have to sand the walls! The mirror that had been at the end of the wall was about fifty million pounds (give or take), therefore absolutely monstrous plugs were used to hold it up. They came out easy enough, but I am going to be playing in mud for a while before I can even think about paint. A little TSP has been suggested as well, as I should clean the walls (step 4 in case you were counting- Oh you're not? Well I am!). Finally I will get a chance to wield a paint brush and roller, when the ceiling gets slathered. Then, finally then, the walls will see some colour (I bought paint that has primer in it, so at least that is one step I get to skip - I'll let you know how it turns out if you are interested.). Hopefully the colour I have chosen works out or else I will be back to the paint store to stare at the wall of paint chips for another hour. The colour I chose was Sand Fossil. Sounds exciting doesn't it? Yeah, it's beige. Whipdee, but I think it will work with what else is going on in the room. I won't see it for a while yet though, so we will see. So, home stretch, but not quite done at that point. Oh no, I have trim to tackle as well. I am sure there are many of you out there that are experts and have no problem with precision, but this is where it gets niggly in my books. There is crown mold and baseboard and a bay window with a nice window nook. All need to get painted. To top it all off, I have this...

That I do not want to deal with at all. This wall is at my front door and all it serves to do is block out valuable sunlight. I would love to tear it down, but still want something there. Just not this. For the interim, it will probably see paint as well though. Perhaps in the spring I will have it reconstructed, but today I shake my head at the tasks in front of me. I bemoaned that this would take me months to complete to Nancy and David as I left them this afternoon.

   "It has to be done by Thursday when we come for dinner!" Nancy stated with a smirk.

Groan! I think I have to go now. I have some mud that is calling my name...

Love

   Grief. What does it mean to me today? It has been a close personal friend of mine over the last two years, but has graced me with its presence at other points in my life as well. Today, it is a badge I can say I have worn with ... not pride. No. I can say I survived with pride. Or I am surviving. The new year brings with it some old familiar twists in my life. Spasms that are not pleasant, but can anticipate, therefore hopefully not be as bad. Last year near this time, I was beginning to anticipate an upcoming stress. I tried to head it off by becoming busy, but only succeeded in flailing and floundering. The stress I knew about piled on "should's" by the yard, but it was an anniversary that I had not anticipated that threatened to wash me away. I tried to face expectations, but just managed to pile them over top of me until I could not breathe. I was trying to take on life and I was not ready. I had been handling all the life I could, and the should I threw at myself pushed me to the edge. I broke, but I reached out a hand and grabbed onto whatever lifeline I could. I was told to be kind. I was offered prayers of peace. I was reminded that this was grief. The wave would recede. I would survive. It was bad, but it was a lesson. Next time, perhaps I could anticipate better. Reach out for help. Not feel alone. There are people there.

   Many have walked through the dark tunnel of grief. It is something we do not talk about. We should. I am constantly surprised by how hard this journey is. Many, many, many moons ago I remember sitting in Wellspring (a wonderful Cancer support centre) after a yoga class. It was my first yoga session after Brad died. A few ladies convinced me to join them for tea after class, as they could see I was upset. They asked me what my story was. I felt sick. It was not my "story"! It was my life! It was raw and more than I could bear. Indeed, it has turned into my story to tell though. It has been a painful story and it is not over yet. I do not have so much pain any more, but I still struggle with who I am and where I am going. This, I am learning, is a common thread though. Sharing my experiences helps me. It not only helps me though. I know my sharing has given others hope and strength where little has been. No one can make all the pain go away. You must walk your path. You must pick up and look at everything along the path of your grief. It is hard work. It takes a long time. Relationships are hard work though and they take time to establish as well. It should not be surprising that grief can cause suffering for so long. We have lost someone that means something to us. One person can fill so many parts of our life. That means that we need to wade through, find all those pieces, accept and mourn every single one of those pieces we have lost. It is a lot of work. It hurts, but for me it has brought great love.

   So why this path today? Is it because I had dinner with my Aunt who is suffering through her own loss? Is it because an anticipated stressor is coming back to the table again? Or is it my little notebook that travelled in my purse last year catching snippets of my life on the fly, that fell across my table this morning and revealed pieces of painful me last year? Or is it just because this is who I am? Grief has touched me. It is a part of me and always will be. I will not always be actively grieving, but my grief will be there forever. I grieve my father, who I could have been, my husband, who we were supposed to be and what we were supposed to have and I grieve the loss of me and who I was. There is a new me that I work on every day. Some days it is not hard. Many days were. Today I reflect.