Week 5: Progress Report (daily version)

Wednesday

I got up before the family and washed the living room and kitchen floors.

If your shoes sort of stick to the floor after you've washed it, (and it's dry) what should you do?
Does it mean it needs rinsing, maybe?
It's only that bit of floor. Maybe it isn't quite clean?

Does anyone else try to clean their home before leaving on a trip so it is spotless when you get home? That's the compulsion I'm under today. My mom does it too. I think you want to be able to come home to everything done--no nagging loose ends to confront when you walk in the door. Is that it? I don't know.

Today I want to measure and mark the plywood for cutting the wood for the faux fireplace facelift. I made scale drawings once upon a time--and in spite of having FOUR binders dedicated to home improvement, housekeeping and maintenance, I can't find them. As you can tell from the previous post today, I've re-done them. If you haven't given me your opinion yet, please do. I won't be getting the trim on until we get back from the conference.

This is the vision:

Someone did this mock-up for me eons ago. Of course, instead of that beautiful screen, we will have the table.

Hung another set of curtains in the basement. These are old, old, Martha Stewart (yes, again. I loved her line in the early days--in fact my kitchen was painted according to one of her "coordinated colour chips." Anybody remember those?) Anyway, they used to hang in the bedroom and they always made me smile. Here, I look at them and instead of feeling joyful about seeing my lovely curtains again, I look at them and feel depressed about the wall.

But then, I broke a fingernail putting up the hardware for the rod, so maybe I'm disgruntled because of that. The husband looked at that wall and declared he ought to sand it. Indeed he ought, but it probably won't happen any time soon.

Taken on an overcast day at noon. I just noticed that sticker when I uploaded the picture. It is now soaking in Goo-Gone. I sure miss that fingernail.)

We're having a disagreement over the trunk. I think it is much TOO RED. The husband says I've made my decision and should stick with it. But I can't help thinking that if I had gone with Maxwell's recommendation, sight unseen, I wouldn't have this garish mess on my hands.

(I took this photo with the flash. I don't usually. Look Zooza--the purple base! And WHAT am I going to do with those boxy STEFAN chairs?)

Oh well. He did re-attach the slidey thingys on the little round table for me this morning and we've marked the plywood for cutting. He says we'll have to buy a new jigsaw if we want to cut it--or he'll have to do it by hand. I don't know why the skill saw won't do the job, but apparently, it won't.

Look what we have here!

(I took this late last night. No flash.)

No, not the freshly stained slidey thingys (though they are part of the story) but a useable little work table. Look at that. I've never been able to take small projects...like slidey thingys, or, say, a lamp, and do something messy to it in a place far, far away from our main living area. I suppose this is why people actually have basements.

Drat, Colleen, I know I promised, and I believe the dog house roof is absolutely, finally done (it was done earlier, but the husband decided to re-do the top bit) and now I have the batteries for the camera re-charging.

So, tomorrow, before we leave, I promise.

I've got all of that sticker up off the top of the dryer and the first coat of white paint on the little table lamp. It's only noteworthy because I decided to use some of the oil paint we had left over from the bathroom project--and I had to hack my way through a 1" crust. My hands now smell like goo-gone, oil paint, mineral spirits and "fragrance free" lotion.

The rest of the evening, I'm afraid, must be devoted to folding laundry.