Columnists
Susanna Moodie meets Laura Ingalls
So, what is this columnist doing this week? I’m not going to blather on about a lot of what’s going on politically, Stateside or here. I’m not going to rant and rave about people who don’t know how to wear a mask, or even about those who won’t wear a mask. I’m not going to get all piddly about sidewalk cyclists. I am going to say, “It’s going to be Autumn on Tuesday, or is it on Monday?” Whatever, it won’t be summer anymore when you’re reading this and I have a project for the fall. I’m attacking the kitchen cabinets. I’m not just getting rid of stuff, like the saffron someone gave me in 1996 or the star anise I bought for some reason but can’t remember why. Yes, indeed, I’ve been sanding, priming and painting. It’s been about 25 years since I painted those cabinets. YCOM (youngest child of mine) said she can vaguely remember when I painted them in the ’90s. It’s hard to believe I had a full-time job and was able to do a paint job, the likes of my kitchen cabinets, on a weekend. Right now, I figure I’m looking at finishing this tarting-up in about two months. I refuse to say it’s going to take longer because I’m a lot older. I prefer to believe it’s because I’m just more careful. I’m careful about using the step ladder. I have been known to miss that last step and get a big ankle-crushing surprise. I’m careful about not slicing my finger off with the scraper. I’m careful about not stepping in the paint tray. Go on, tell me you’ve never stepped in a paint tray. I’m careful about checking for paint on the bottom of my shoe. It’s hard to blame someone else for the paint daubs throughout the house when you’re the only one painting. Don’t laugh. We’ve all done it.
I’m learned a lot in those twenty five or so years. One of the most important lessons is to make sure the kitchen is totally disrupted, night after night, so LOML offers to “pick up” dinner. I wish I’d known that trick when I was a younger kitchen painter. But seriously, I have learned, when doing home renovation-kinda-work, to map it all out before I get started. In my youth I’d rush out to the local hardware stores (both were far too close to the house), pick out a paint colour, buy a gallon of whatever and head home to transform my estate. It wasn’t until I opened that paint can I realized I didn’t have a roller, a brush, a drop cloth, Frog tape, a ladder, a paint tray or paint remover (remember when you needed paint remover?) So, out I’d go again to pick up what I needed and come back with almost everything plus a couple of curtain rods, a glue gun and a can of silver cleaner. The out-andback would happen two or three times until I finally had everything I needed to get the cabinets painted. By the time I was completely ready to get going Sunday evening would have reared its head and I’d have to put the project off until the next weekend. When the next weekend arrived, the paint would have needed to be shaken, not stirred once again. It only took a couple, or more, decades.
So, here I am. The kitchen is completely topsy-turvy (guaranteeing a take-out meal or five), but I have a plan. I know enough to sand and prime first, then to sand lightly between layers, and not forget that paint stays wet and tacky for an hour or two. How many times, on a Sunday, did I lean on wet paint? I’ve also learned, while undertaking a painting project, I shouldn’t wear clothing I value, or hope to wear in public. In the past I always felt I was neater than I really am. Consequently, I have an impressive collection of paint shirts, paint pants, paint shoes and paint bandanas. I even have pyjamas which could be classified as “paint pyjamas”, or “Memories of Painting the Kitchen Table Red” comfies. After all of these years I finally understood why my dad had a pair of “paint pants” that he wore over the almost 40 years of painting projects at our family home. If ever you forgot what colour your bedroom was when you were ten, his paint pants were a visual history of each room.
I understand a lot of all y’all are undertaking home sprucing-up projects. I hope you have a good plan or a process of some kind. You know, some days I feel like a pioneer, doing all of these little fix-up projects around the house. Some days I wish we lived in a log cabin and were happy without kitchen cabinets that needed to be painted. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Maybe I should skip the painting, buy myself a bonnet and a gingham apron then tell everyone I’m going for the “Roughing it in the Bush” look. That’s the ticket. Where’s my whitewash brush?
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