In my typical "why-plan-ahead-when-you-can-stress-yourself-out-by-doing-things-out-at-the-last-minute" manner, I decided on Thursday to do a porch redo.
And not just any porch redo. But a porch redo for the 50th birthday of the Man of the House.
Now, you might be asking, "Did the Man of the House really want a porch redo for his 50th birthday??"
And to that I would say, "Well . . . uh . . . I don't know." Actually, I haven't been able for 20 years to figure out what to get the man who doesn't want anything. I do know he loves updates on the house. And so it's either another golf shirt or a porch redo.
I chose the porch redo. And I informed all the kids that they were going to be joining me in this porch redo . . . as a present to Dad.
"Hey, do you have something else purchased??"
"Oh, good. So glad you'll be joining me for the porch redo!"
So here's the "Before."
Horrid stained concrete. Claustrophobic narrowness. Ugly rocker cushions.
View from a rocker seat. (Ack!! I'm in jail!!)
And whose job is it to trim these bushes?? I'll have to check the Marriage Contract.
Now, it just so happens that Thursday morning The Man of the House and Oldest Son left for a basketball tournament. Ah, perfect timing. If I rally the troops, all will be done by Saturday afternoon. Birthday surprise on its way!
Here's how the first day went down:
Early Thursday Morning: Middle Son starts us off by sledgehammering out the railing.
Middle of Thursday Morning: We get busy scrubbing mildewy pillars and dirty cement.
Late Thursday Morning: I edge the cement floor in Quickcrete's "Weathered Oak" . . . a yummy mushroom color.
I feel the edges of panic beginning. I don't think I'm going to like this color. I notice that the brick is a deep caramel-y color. The grout is a light caramel-y color. Yes, the rock has some hues of taupes, but I also see golden browns gleeming all through the rock wall.
And I am painting on a color that is turning out a Light Stone Grey.
Never mind. Press ahead.
End of Thursday Morning: Youngest Son does a stellar job rolling the sealant on.
Thursday Noon: I feel sick to my stomach. I hate this color. When I look out the front door, it looks like the house is floating in a gray storm cloud. Or maybe it looks like a brick-trimmed marshmallow deck . . . made of gray marshmallows.
May I insert here that my Paint ADD is becoming a bit of a trend. I am beginning to accept that in order to get an acceptable paint color, I must first select, purchase and apply the most wrong-est color in the world. And then, and only then, will I be able to pick just the right color.
This is why I am not an interior decorator. (There are many reasons.) Because in order to decorate your living room, I would first have to design it in Asian Modern before I figured out that you wanted French Country all along. And at that point you would be trying to sand the red lacquer off the walls.
Early Thursday Afternoon: Morning well nigh wasted. Husband home in two days. He will not like seeing the house floating in a gray storm cloud. This will not be a cheerful birthday surprise.
I dash back to Lowe's, desperate to rectify this problem. Let's go with a caramel-y tan instead.
Mr. Paint Guy shakes his head ominously. We have a problem.
To be continued . . .