Painting

We are painting our house.

(Or at least I should say that the house is the intended target for the paint. After looking at Mark's shirt and my arms and hands I considered that first statement and decided clarification was called for, in all honesty.)

I'm not really sure how we got to this task though. We hated the color of the house when we bought it and knew we would like it to be a different color. But 'wanting' a different color and actually 'painting' it a different color are two separate things. Painting takes ladders and money and clean-up and, well, effort. Wanting just takes a sigh here and a thought there and a lot of 'intention.' 'Wanting' is a lot easier.

'Painting' is more satisfying though.

We got a new garage door last January and liked the color of that enough to want to base the new paint color on it - slightly darker perhaps, maybe a combination of a darker and a lighter paint for accent and dimension. I looked at paint samples for months. Everything was too green or too brown or too gray or too light. I wanted something more neutral but more current. (My neighborhood tends toward khaki, if you must know - it's that sort of place.) We finally found a possibility in an 'off' brand - another snag in the planning - but I got it 'color-matched' and bought a few little sample jars to try out and before I knew it there were several paint stripes on the wall next to the garage door and then the whole project had to go forward. You can't just have a few stripes and a mismatched garage door and call it good. There was nothing else for it. Paint had to be applied to the whole house, and soon.

Poor Mark. I don't think he'd really bought into the whole notion and all of a sudden he was up on a ladder. With a roller in his hand. And paint on his shirt.

Now I've confessed before to being a bit wussy, so it shouldn't surprise anyone to hear me say that painting is hard work for me. Wussiness and house painting aren't a good combination. I do want to keep up my part though, so I have settled on using a small brush that I can handle without hand-cramps or fatigue. And I've tried to get out there every afternoon for a few hours. Painting a house with a 2-inch brush and a fear of unstable ladders might not be the most efficient way to do things, but it is working for me and I'm actually enjoying the effort. The house is looking pretty good. And I think I'm doing my share. (Slowly, I admit.)

I think this is basically how I've always accomplished things. I mull them over. I plan and reconsider. I take baby steps. I back off for a while. And at some point I just jump in. At some point the doing becomes more interesting than the planning. And more plausible.

And before we know it - the house is a very nice color!