Painting Safety

We worked on the porch again today. I didn't take any pictures, because, mid-project, it's not really something I want to show off just yet.

But both parts of the couple next door, the ones who started the whole Paint-The-Town-Green stampede have seen what we're doing and smiled and waved, instead of flinging themselves to the ground and screaming, "What are you doing?!? You're ruining our freakishly homogeneous neighbourhood!!!"

I take that as a good sign.

I did learn something about myself today. Despite years of protestations to the contrary, despite blaming it on the exquisite sensitivity of my inner-ear, I am, in fact, afraid of heights.

More to the point, I am afraid of falling from great heights and breaking parts of myself, leaving me in pain and possibly without access to the fun drugs.

This should come as a huge relief to Alan.

I am like my mother in many ways, but she, despite repeated falls and fractures (with or without access to the fun drugs) never developed the requisite fear and, at the age of over-eighty, with advanced MS, would head up ladders at the drop of a hat. In fact, when we moved in with her, we had to hide all the ladders.

This will never be an issue with me.

And since this is a how-to site, let me share my hard-won tips for painting well with others.

It is essential, at all times, to be aware of where your partner's head is in relation to your paint brush.

Also, never critique each others' work. No matter what.

If this is simply not possible for you, you will have to become the Designated Painter (my parents' solution).

Alan's parents divided the duties. She painted the trim and he did all the rest.

Alan and I take turns on that, but have finally come to the realization that if you don't try to show me your super-efficient and really, let's face it, better system of painting, you will spare yourself the very long tour of every spill, splooge and drip you have inflicted on my precious, precious house.

Really, much safer all the way around.