Painting on My Day Off

Whew! I had yesterday and today off (since I work the weekend), and spent the better part of each day painting all the trim in the kitchen and the dining room. Yay! It's all done! Finishing interior painting three years after I move into a house has got to be a record for me.

Oop. Except that we're not done the trim in the front entrance, so the interior is in fact not done. Dang. It had to be too good to be true. That area is still under discussion; some days I want to paint the trim and some days I want to strip and refinish all the fir trim instead. I love the look of refinished fir, especially tight-grain old fir, but man, that's a lot of work. The front entrance is probably 4 ft x 4 ft in area, but it has two doorways, so there's enough trim to strip for many weeks. I remain undecided.

I'm a hearty and enthusiastic painter, but messy, so I always used green painter's tape to clean up the edges. Taping out the trim in both rooms yesterday took me the better part of an hour all by itself. Sprout was hilarious when he came home and saw it: "Mummy putta uppa tape. Is pretty." (with a little head nod). I love the running commentary from the knee-high conversationalist. (okay, waist-high).

In other news, have procured an epi-pen for the Sprout, and have arranged an appointment with the allergist. Am under some pressure from the in-laws to make Christmas cookies anyways, but am nervous about using a lot of nuts until I talk to the doctor.

Because we are broke from the kitchen renovations, Jimbo and I have been borrowing a lot of free movies from the Library instead of renting movies. Our latest jag has been the "Rumpole of the Bailey" series from the late 70s. It's very entertaining. "She who must be obeyed!" is a Rumpole joke that never seems to get tired. Or not yet, anyway.

I haven't been to the gym for weeks, unfortunately, but I did get to the swimming pool yesterday for a few laps to escape the stinky paint smell in the house. I always dread the idea of gathering all my stuff and dragging myself to the pool, but once I'm there, I love it so much. We lived two blocks from the pool where I grew up, and I think I was there every day that it was open for our short Saskatchewan summers. As soon as I'm actually in the water, I am transported back to those drowsy days of swimming, giggling, and sleeping on my towel in the hot sun.

Today, I wandered downtown to escape the paint smell, instead of swimming. I usually get the Sprout from daycare on my days off and take him with me, but he's probably better away from the paint fumes for as long as possible. And it's really nice to recharge my 'who am I, anyway' batteries. I did some errands, browsed through a used bookstore, got a coffee, and am blogging happily for a few minutes.

Oh, and one more note about The Squirrel Cafe. I was talking to my sister on the telephone the other night, and she said "I don't think I'm enough of an intellectual to ever go to the Squirrel Cafe." Don't you hate that when really smart people don't think that they are really smart? She may not enjoy a salon at the Squirrel, but I did remind her that there will always be a game of Boggle set up in a cosy corner for her. After all, she is the only person who will play Boggle with me anymore, and who can beat me at least half the time... Where would the world be without word freaks??