As I begin the eleventh month of living in my cottage, I am at last, beginning to see real progress. Two weeks ago I had my bedroom, the guest room, and the hallway painted, including the ceilings, thankyouverymuch.
Yes, I could have painted them myself. Two reasons that never happened:
1. It seemed daunting to paint the ceilings and walls of so many rooms. (Shall we just say that I am not the neatest painter? Even when I lay drop cloths down, somehow a fine mist of paint speckles and splatters manages to find it's way to my furniture and floors.)
2. I'm crazy busy at my grown up girl job all day, and coming home to try and muster the energy to paint in the evenings wasn't happening.
Never mind the reasons.
(See the paint splotches? See the plaster repair that I did actually tackle myself?)
I know I could have done the inside paint job. (God knows I've done it before, plant of times.) The simple fact is stated up above, where I state that I am entering my eleventh month in my cottage, folks.
That would be ten months since I slathered some blue, grey, and off white paint on various areas of the living room walls to finally decide I was going with an all white interior.
My painter-guy was cheaper than I imagined, which made this all (finally) doable.
Tonight I will mop the hardwood floors, wash my sofa slipcovers, and curtains, dust and oil my wood furniture and admire the serene atmosphere in my sweet living and dining room of my cottage.
I will then repeatedly step in and out of the room, admiring it from both the hallway and the kitchen doorway, pinching myself.
Next step will be new baseboards and trim. (Yippeeeeee!)