Or maybe the title should be…misadventures in spray painting!
This move from cottage to bungalow, accompanied by emptying out a 10 x 20 ft storage unit, has been a misadventure in itself. I made my first adult move when I was 17; in the ensuing 40 years it has never taken me this long to get settled. That said, I am finally getting to the “little details” phase of moving in. I reorganized the kitchen cabinets, after realizing I had placed often-used items in awkward hard-to-reach locations, while the roasting pan I use every other year is at my fingertips. Then I spent an evening switching out clothing in closets and an antique armoire, where I had made coats easy to reach (the “freak” ice storm of 2014 notwithstanding, I have a couple of these coats just for visits to my daughters), and accessories for work and travel were behind two doors. Time to decorate the walls!
I have wonderful natural light coming through the many windows; wall space for pictures, not so much. This meant some serious “weeding” out of art and photos.
I shipped off some old (Really old. Historic, actually) family pictures and a couple of pieces of art that I thought Jen and Marissa would appreciate (if not, it would be on their conscience if they get rid of them, not mine!).
So, the framing project. Well, the frames of three pieces I decided to keep were just not working. Every time I walked by and looked at them, I cringed. Not only were the frames the wrong color, but one poster just didn’t fit with the more vintage look of the room.
The other two pieces of art just needed to be in different colored frames. Of course, these frames were all custom – no stock-sized art for this girl! After a bit of a search, I found the Pensacola map poster I wanted. All I needed now was three cans of spray paint (please note: one can of black. one can of navy blue. in different shaped cans.).
It was early evening when I got started (first mistake). The first coat of each color went on beautifully. Wait 30 minutes and spray on second coat (dusk is approaching). Covering dark colors well, but quite smug with my ability to do the job right, took the time to put on a third coat (it is now dark). Wait 30 minutes, spread newspaper on kitchen floor so all items can “cure” overnight (I’m doing such a good job – being patient and all). Bring in the large black frame and realize I had missed total coverage on a small area. No problem – I’ll just give it a quick spray and bring it inside to finish drying. Did I mention it was dark? As soon as I let loose with the paint I realized I had picked up the yellow can (how the heck did that happen?). Oh yeah, it is dark … and I’m in a hurry. No problem – I’ll just prop it against the fence and let it dry and then will recoat with the black. Everything else looks great, including the wooden Kleenex box cover which I estimate has been painted at least seven colors in the last 20 years.
I head back outside, black paint in hand. Give that one corner a good spray and head inside … where the lights are blazing. Where I realize I had painted over the top of the yellow, and black, with navy blue. Somehow (in the dark), I had switched the black and blue paint can lids (they were even in different kinds of cans). By now it is about 10:30 p.m., but I am not going to stop until the entire frame is covered with black paint and inside to finish the drying process.
Time to reframe the art. First two pieces (yellow and blue) go together beautifully and look exactly the way I envisioned. And, they are up on the wall. The poster frame, not so easy. First, I knicked my finger on the corner of the glass. No problem, a drop of blood on the glass, easy to wipe off. Bandaid affixed, back to work.
What I didn’t realize was I had actually knicked myself in TWO places. I couldn’t just drop this big piece of glass, so now there are blood droplets scattered on the beige quilt.
Three new pictures for less than $16 (paint: $12.00; poster: $3.50) and some blood and sweat – no tears. And a couple of bandaids. And some laundry soap. And a bit of electricity and water.
And, every time I walk through the rooms, I smile. Excuse me, time to put that quilt into the wash!