Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Exterior Painting Status: Complete

If jobs were poems this one would have been an epic. I had it in my head to write a fab post about the experience with some kind of deep parallel to life or love or something equally profound, but it's just not happening. The only thing I feel is relief. Overwhelming, all-encompassing relief.


In the beginning I thought, "Seven walls. No sweat. I've painted seventy times seven on the inside. This will be a breeze." What I didn't take into account is that these walls are much taller than the ones inside the house. This means climbing up and down really tall wobbly ladders over and over. It means scraping and sanding and priming and then two coats of paint. It means brushes and tiny rollers and big rollers. It means forgetting to take the paint off of the little shelf thingy on the ladder and spilling paint on myself a total of seven times. (I counted today. It was easy because the dried blobs were still there to remind me.) It means almost two months of getting to paint only during nap times and when the weather is appropriate. It means two big fights with Glen and a couple little ones. It means that I am never painting the exterior of a house again without reinforcements. Lots of them.

I'm so glad it's over.

It's taken so long that I can barely remember what it looked like when we started. So I found a picture to remind me:
That was taken on a visit to the house when we were considering buying it. You can't really tell, but when we bought it the house was painted a kind of pukey pinky brown. I hated it so much, not least because when it was last painted the people who did it only put on one coat so this brutal yellow showed through if you looked closely. Looking back I have to wonder how I saw past the inevitable three cars parked in and around the driveway, the dangling and broken twinkle lights, the multiple satellite dishes, the dangling and broken porch lights that had burned a rather large hole in a part of the siding, the weeds, the pealing paint, the dangling and frayed extension cords strung all over the place, the broken bikes and trash laying all over the yard... And that's just the outside. The inside was MUCH worse. MUCH. (Ask Ang.) The only answer I can come up with is, "I've got vision. I've got brushes. I've got ladders. Who could ask for anything more?"

And paint. I've got paint. Does anyone want two cans of very pale blue exterior paint? Sigh.

Lesson Learned: When buying paint, tint only a few cans at a time so you can take back the extras.

Oh well. It's done. I got it done before the snow came and that's all that counts. Did I mention that I'm really glad it's over? Because I am. So glad.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Here Goes Nothing

Thanks to facebook and the wonderful world of blogging, I've connected with a classmate who I've known since, I think, grade six. (Have I ever mentioned how much I love facebook for that very reason? Well, just in case I haven't... I do.) Jen writes a fabulous blog, and I've really enjoyed getting to know her better over at Aspergertopia.

She tagged me with a meme that asks: "What 5 qualities that make you a good writer?"

Yoiks. I'm like Jen. I could come up with five things that make me a rotten writer really easily. (I love to cut myself down. It's one of my favorite hobbies.) I've been trying to come up with something for the past few days and so far I've got nothing. I'm stubborn though, so I'm not going to let this meme beat me. The plan is to just start typing and see what happens. Here I go.

  1. I like talking. I talk a lot so I think it is pretty natural for me to write a lot. This blog is my way of talking to a whole bunch of people all at once. (Good one Becky. I knew this plan would work.)
  2. I like to read. I've always liked to read. I think people who read a lot find it easy to put things down on paper... Or the computer screen. (Yes. Two down. Three to go.)
  3. (Hmmm... Uhhhh...) I'm a pretty fast typer? (That one was a little lame, hopefully I'll do better with the next one.)
  4. (Oh! I know!) I'm good at procrastinating. How does make me a good writer you ask? Well, it doesn't I guess. It makes me a writer though. For example, I wouldn't be writing this post if I wasn't putting off doing the dishes. Procrastination has served me well on many occasions. I owe a lot of fab posts to putting off housework.
  5. I love words. I always have. I love writing poems and songs. I love writing stories. I love putting my thoughts into words that perfectly express exactly how I feel. I love looking at something I've written and feeling that I got it just right. (Sadly, that probably won't happen with this post, but you can't win them all.)
There you have it. And it only took me 7 minutes. Yes. It's all about quality not quantity over here at alittlestone. And you, my faithful readers, get to reap the benefits. You're welcome.

I tag Shirley, my mom, Becky, Kim, and Dixie 'cause they are all pretty great writers. And just in case they are lazy writers like me, I'm bribing them with a Drumstick, Tootsie Roll Pops, bruschetta at Moxie's, Diet Coke, and an icecream somewhere in P.A. respectively. If that doesn't work, I don't know what will.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Joy Is Like The Rain

A longish time ago, when I was in elementary school, we used to sing a rain song (among others) at school assemblies. I can still remember the first verse perfectly and often sing it to myself when it's raining. I know there were other verses, and that one of them was about Jesus, but they've slipped from my memory as easily as the words from One-Eyed, One-Horned Flying Purple People Eater. I just always really liked that first verse. Especially the words, "Laughter runs across my pain, slips away and comes again." I suppose I must have always had a poetic heart and a thing for imagery.

It's raining today. They boys slept in and we all ended up lazing around in my bed till around eleven. As I lay there looking out the window, watching drops of rain running across the glass I found myself humming the words from so long ago and wondering how the rest of the song went. So, of course, I googled it.


I saw raindrops on my window, Joy is like the rain.

Laughter runs across my pain, slips away and comes again.

Joy is like the rain.

I saw clouds upon a mountain, Joy is like a cloud.

Sometimes silver, sometimes grey, always sun not far away.

Joy is like a cloud.

I saw Christ in wind and thunder, Joy is tried by storm.

Christ asleep within my boat, whipped by wind, yet still afloat.

Joy is tried by storm.

I saw raindrops on the river, Joy is like the rain.

Bit by bit the river grows, till at once it overflows.

Joy is like the rain.

I love the rain. Maybe because I live in a place where rain really doesn't happen that often, it always seems welcome to me. When I'm happy it's the perfect excuse to be lazy, read a book, rent a movie. Or sometimes, when it's warm, I can walk in it with my feet bare and streams of water running down over my cheeks.

And when I'm sad, it feels so right that it's raining. It feels like the world is sad with me too, and that my tears are echoed in the drops that run down windows, and drip off of the leaves of trees. I love the smell of rain. And the sound. And the way it makes me just feel things.

Sunday, October 07, 2007

Every breath you take. Every move you make.

Our stalker has been identified.

I should have known.

It makes sense really.

They've stolen precious family members from me before. They were bound to try again.

The question is:


Sigh. At least we know who to be looking out for now... Maybe I should bring a picture to Ben's teachers so they know who to look out for too? Maybe I should print out a few wanted posters and put them up at Ben's school and a few at the elementary schools in town just to be safe?

Naaa. Too much work. I'll just deploy Angtron and Sambot to the area. A sniper and a diaper. That oughta do it.

(Oh yeah... And Happy Thanksgiving. We had Chinese food and Dilly Bars, so pardon me for not feeling all Thanksgivingy this year and writing a big post about family and bountiful harvests.)

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Clearing off my Desk

I don't have anything interesting to say, so I think now is a good time to file away some stuff that's been floating around the surface of my mind...

  1. First (and most importantly) of all: Who the hoink wrote the anonymous comment on this post asking where Ben goes to school? If I know you it would really put my mind at ease if you'd please let me know who you are. (Plus my mom's mind as she is all freaked out.) If I don't know you and you are harmless please just drop me a line telling me who you are. If you don't want to do that on the blog then drop me a line on my email which can be found by clicking on my profile and then the email link. If I don't know you and you are a crazed psycho I suppose you don't need to bother contacting me. We've put Ben's school on alert and they are watching out for strangers. (Plus there's always Ang, with her long range rifle and rock steady aim.)
  2. I really need a haircut, or a perm, or something. I've started wearing my hair wrapped up into a bun-type dealy with a pen stuck through it (then capped) to hold it in place. It's a look that goes well with my pink shoelace belt, but would probably land me on What Not To Wear without even breaking a sweat. (Not that hairdos sweat. That was imagery. Try and keep up.)
  3. I've got a job. Yes, I am officially employed outside the home. Don't go getting all excited though. It's not a teaching job. Actually, it doesn't sound like a real job at all to me. There is an indoor playground in Yorkton and I will be supervising it 2 hours a day. We'll see if this bon-bon-eating, soap-watching, lazing-around housewife can make it in the the high pressure world of the career woman. Fingers crossed. (If I don't like it I suppose my bon-bons will still be here waiting for me. And Roman.)
  4. I'm sick, which means the trip to Saskatoon for Thanksgiving, seeing my Uncle Kent and Brent, attending Gramma's 80th birthday party, and a nice week long visit to hang around at the hospital and see some friends is canceled. Dad won't be able to see me and none of my family will be able to see me for at least a week so there isn't much point. I'm very disappointed and more than a little depressed, but it can't be helped. Once I am better and we know the boys haven't caught it we'll reschedule our trip, but till then I am stuck in Dorkton, away from my family, feeling... Well... Shitty.
  5. I'm still not done painting our house. Whatever.
So. There you have it. Nice and clean. I even put all the loose paper clips into a handy little container. But will I be able to find anything now? Who can say.