Monday, July 19, 2010

Operation Paint Da House: 2010

In 2008, much to our utter shock, Hubband and I (who was not yet Hubband at the time - still Lowly Boyfriend) bought a house.  Why, you ask, is that such a shock?  Because houses are ri-donk-uloulsy expensive in San Diego.  But, like I said, to our utter shock, when the bottom fell out of the housing market, we were able to accomplish a dream.  Ha ha!  If I recall my church-related upbringing correctly, the meek shall inherit the earth.  Rise up, mighty Meeklings!  Now is OUR time!  (Side note: a big "thank you" to all the banks and mortgage lenders that hosed all the previously un-meek home buyers by giving them ridiculous mortgages without accurate background checks.  You have made my dreams come true!)

So, as I was saying, in 2008, much to our utter shock, Hubband and I bought a simple home; a bungalow that has become our little corner of the world.  When I say I love this house, I'm not exaggerating.  We looked at dozens (sadly, I'm not exaggerating...) of houses before we found our Home.  When we walked in the front door I said "Oh yeah, this is our home".  We submitted the offer and within 24 hours we had an answer.  It was meant to be.

It's now two years since we bought the house; we have a little bit of money saved up so we want to make some small upgrades.  We looked at putting an addition on the back of the house but it was going to cost us about a bazillion dollars (give or take a kazillion) so we decided, instead, to just paint the exterior of the house and put up an arbor over the front patio.  Yeeeeeahhhhhh... brilliant idea on paper.  Bad idea in reality.

Three or four weeks ago darling Hubband started to scrape the house down to take off all of the old, dried, cracking paint (which is a glorious salmon color, by the way).  If I remember correctly this task had him annoyed within two hours or so.  So Hubband went to his favorite store (* shameless plug*): Home Depot.  He bought himself a palm sander and once again revisited the task of removing the paint from the house.  This step, while likely necessary, and ultimately faster than scraping the house, is far more annoying for those of us residing inside the house.  Namely, me and the dog.  The dog proceeded the spend the afternoon whining and pacing the house while Hubband tried to reduce the house to rubble by means of a palm sander.

Sanding complete (two weeks later).  Now it's time to paint.  Only, we need to prime before we get to add color.  Priming = house looking like it's done a bad job of applying sunscreen. Hubband has also, ever-so-diligently, taped off all the elements of the house that we don't want to be painted.  However, with the heat and humidity over the past week and a bit, most of the tape is now dangling and swaying in the wind.  Periodically this will rub against the office window and scare the bajeezus out of me.  I've now started to slap the tape back down to any surface it will stick to so I avoid the unexpected moments of terror.

So this weekend, I get motivated to help him.  I'm kind of an "instant gratification" gal so if I put paint on the walls, it had best be color.  However, the priming isn't done so I agree to be the good wife that I promised to be when we said our "I do's" and I paint all possible surfaces within my range (anything lower than 6' or so).  What this really means is that I've painted two measly pieces of trim around the garage and a bit of the concrete that the previous owners thoughtfully painted pink (no, we still don't know why).  Then Hubband decides to dump a container full of primer down the front of himself. At first it's funny.  Yes, it's a moment riddled with inappropriate language as Hubband is doing his absolute best not to get paint on the driveway, but mostly I'm giggling as I do my utmost to remove the mass of paint from his clothing.  And what, you ask, is the best way to try to remove paint from a body?  Paint it!  In theory the brush will absorb the extra paint and we can scrape it back into the can for future use.  I'm not so good with theories!

So now Hubband is mostly white, and a little giddy from the paint removal process, and the panic starts to set in.  We realize that perhaps we've bitten off a little more than we can chew (proverbially speaking, of course).  Hubband is standing on the ladder, brush and bucket in hand, contemplating how we're going to paint the the peak of the house when we only have a ladder that will allow us to reach 10'.  I'm pacing, trying to figure out how to make the process easier.  I call my Parentals.  They don't answer.  Hubband and I share a look - I'm almost in tears.

"What have we done?", I think to myself.  "There's no way we can conceivably finish a task like this!  We're Meeklings, not mighty, over-confident-home-owners capable of taking on monumental tasks by ourselves.  We're the payers - the people who hire other people to do stuff like this because we don't know how.  Our "Plan B" is: when in doubt, pay someone to do the job!"  So I do the only logical thing: I grab the laptop to find someone to finish the job for us.  No good.  No one is open on Sundays (did I mention I'm an instant gratification kind of gal?) and it's going to be far more expensive than we had hoped.  

Plan C?  Just. Do. It.

Armed with our paint swatch choices and the grit and determination of a field mouse, I head back to Home Depot in search of inspiration.  I purchase two cans of paint - COLORED cans of paint.  I figure in the name of sanity, it's best to just move forward and make it happen.  I return to the house $80 lighter thanks to the paint and the "Better" paint brushes I bought, and proceed to add color to the house while Hubband continues to prime all of the surfaces that I can't reach.  Success - Team Schmaltz beats the odds again!

Is it done?  Nope, but we're getting there.  Will it be done by the end of this month?  Probably not, but that's mostly because we're doing our part in the "worst-looking-house-on-the-block" parade.  Next month it will be someone else's turn and we'll be able to drive down the block, snickering smugly to ourselves, rolling our eyes and saying "Poor Meeklings!  They don't know what they've got themselves into.  Thank goodness WE are mighty and know how to take care of our home".

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