Things are progressing pretty quickly. The things I can do, that is. There is the whole dark beyond, which involves gas lines and water heaters, that are not progressing. Those are the things I cannot do. I'm hoping to keep that list short, and overcome whatever silly fears I might have of floor sanders or Sawzalls. We still haven't heard word back from the Contractor we talked to. I think the bid may end up being one of those great documents that we point at in the future and say "Look how much money we saved" by living in chaos and doing it all ourselves.
The funny thing is, I am loving it. There is something so amazingly satisfying about rolling paint on and seeing a room completed in front of your eyes. The best part is that when it is done, it is DONE. Not like laundry, or the dishes that have been piling up in the sink since we've started this project. For real done!
I've spent a lot of zen painting time contemplating the hands that have painted these walls before me. We estimate the house is about 110 years old, and there are many layers of paint between me and the plaster. Did they, too, feel happy to be working on this house? I wonder whose voices are reflected in the decor choices. How many children have laughed here? How many newlyweds called this house a home? I'm looking forward to getting a chance to learn more about it's history.
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