Sam, the ceiling needs painting
I don’t know about anyone else, but I have a series of gears, or programs, or some other metaphor for changing focus. When I am writing, I’m focused on that, and have to wrench myself back to consensus reality to go to meetings, run rituals, etc. This state has the advantage that I can ignore cobwebs, dust bunnies, and dirty dishes. Otherwise I would never get any writing done.
But when it is time to clean house for a party the situation is reversed. I see Everything, and suddenly cannot understand why the rest of my household is not eager to do something about the obvious mess too. And when I take on a Project, I become fixated and work until my body hurts too much and I have to stop.
This winter’s project was a long-delayed repainting of the living room. One reason we keep the walls white is because between children, crayons, and the sticky putty we use to put up the posters for the Charlie party, the walls get pockmarked and need to be repainted. White is at least easy to match. But then there’s the ceiling. Another regular problem is leaks in the deck overhead that cause discoloration and peeling. Last winter we were having actual leaks, and this summer I finally found a source for the gunk we paint on the deck to stop that. So I was finally free to tackle the ceiling. Now painting the ceiling is quite an operation. I don’t want to do it any more often than I have to. And the white ceiling was boring anyway.
So after spackling and sanding the current set of problems I painted the ceiling a color that I now realize is Frigga’s favorite blue. The theory is that as new discolorations appear, I will take a sponge or a spray can and apply clouds….
And of course the walls then looked dingy. So I have repainted them a pristine white. And the drapes and rug are at the cleaners. And now I am eyeing the rest of the house….
The theory was that I would do the edging and other people would do the middle, but except for some help from Evan (oldest grandson) on one wall, this didn’t happen. Partly because I realized that I’m really *good* at painting. I can paint a whole ceiling without splattering either myself or the floor. When I use a roller, the result is even. Apparently, based on past observation, this is not as easy as it looks. So I decided that I would rather do the work myself than clean up after others.
And it turns out that working with my head tipped back is actually good for the neck problems that result from hunching over a computer for hours on end.
Hmm. Maybe I could write a few chapters and paint a ceiling, and then a few more chapters, and… anyone need a ceiling painted?