So, I know chalk paint is all the rage on Pinterest. However, I am not loving it. Despite the high cost of paint I dove in. Why? I hate sanding. I had heard no priming necessary you can paint over any surface. NOT polyurethane apparently. It was like milk on glass. Since, there was no refund on the pricey paint, I soldiered on. Purchasing additional cans of paint. Eventually, slathering 3 cans of the stuff on. I had air bubbles, runs, cracks…$150 later and countless, frustrating, hours of my life later. I think the paint has finally stuck to my built in book shelves. AM I FINISHED?? NO. I still need to paint on the waxy topcoat. Wait 24 long hours for it to dry, then buff it out to acheive a nice glossy surface. Reapplying as necessary. What $30 waxy topcoat is not permanant? I don’t even wax my car. Now I am committed to shelf waxing. sigh..pout…brood
10 Things I Love Better than Chalk Paint
- The movie Hot Tub Time Machine
- A trip to the dentist
- Spam (
- Cats (:
- Fingernails on a chalkboard
- Tornado season
Why am I writing on my blog? To avoid my chalk painting project.
Ugh…I guess I will go wax my shelves and plan to be at home 24 hours later to buff them out. I wonder what happens if it is 27 hours later or 30. What is my window of opportunity??? Why can’t it be daylight savings time this weekend? Would that actually help or give me even less time? 10 things I hate more than chalk paint wax….
The one time of the year that I am asked to make hot rolls. Because I am renowned for my wonderful award winning hot rolls…uh, no. Actually, I pick out a random recipe each year from one of those cookbooks put together by a 4-H group or church. This year it is Belinda’s Light Rolls, OK Belinda, I am counting on you.
Each year as I am mixing a bag of flour into a few cups of liquid with a serving spoon from my dinnerware set, I long for one of those Kitchen Aide mixers in pink. I imagine effortlessly blending cups and cups of flour into a couple of cups of liquid. The problem is where would I store a gigantic 30 lb mixer? I’ll bet the Pioneer Woman even has a Kitchen Aide mixer…some pioneer. Then I couldn’t find my special hot roll making bowl, so I am using the top of a cake carrier to let the dough rise in.
Each year my mother will wistfully say, I really miss my mother’s hot rolls they were so light and yeasty. The ones made without a recipe, back in the day when all women could make pie crust, bread, egg noodles, instinctively with no recipe book, probably didn’t even measure. No Kitchen Aid mixer either.
The best thing I make…once a year…is broccoli rice casserole. Not one of those cheese whizzy or Velvetta ones. This one is amazing. Bakes for an hour and a half, a pound of cheddar, eggs, oil, fresh broccoli,rice, cream of mushroom soup, a little milk. My invention? No, found in my handy dandy 4-H cookbook. Probably made by Belinda’s sister.
Anyway, tomorrow is a day of thanks. Thankful for family and friends. Thankful for a multitude of blessings great and small. And hopefully thankful that my hot rolls turned out really great….if not there is always next year.
God bless you this Thanksgiving!
Yes, its like you can see the tumbleweeds blowing by in the wind through my deserted website. Where have I been?
Working on my house of course!
Spent Veterans Day sanding baseboards…ugh…wearing fogged over goggles, dusk mask, and ear plugs. Never felt more attractive. Wondering how long it would take to become brain damaged from lack of oxygen. Thank God that part is done. Next plastering and yet more sanding. I passionately hate sanding…
Today, I bought this kick butt mold killing primer. NOTE to all- never read the product warnings. Basically, if you inhale, get any on you, or get any in your eyes; you should rush to an emergency room. Is the mold or mildew that life-threatening or dangerous? I feel like I should wear a hazmat suit to paint those little moldy spots. They probably can’t even sell the paint in California. What I need is a fearless 70 year old man to brush the paint on. You know the type. The type that tosses a cigarette butt into a can of gasoline. Yeah, the old guy smoking a cigarette, driving around with no seat belt, throwing caution to the wind every step of the way. The same warning is probably on the toilet bowl cleaner. This is why I never clean the bathroom…too dangerous.
Hopefully, I will be finished, by the end of the month. Who am I kidding? This is going to take FOREVER!!!
I hate you Bob Villa, you made an old house seem like a fun adventure. *sigh* I always wanted to marry Bob Villa, next best thing to a rich man.
OK…Cool thing about my town, they are always filming some movie here. Two in my neighborhood. Once there was a catering truck out on the street, guys dressed like gangsters, and cars from back in the day right outside my door. The second time there were cars from the 50’s and a wardrobe truck on the street. Right now there is a Western being filmed in town.
Anyway, Friday I get a letter saying my house is under consideration to be used in a film, if I am interested. Well, of course my house is totally junked out…another project in process. Old living room furniture shoved into dining room, backroom furniture shoved into bedroom. I hesitate then figure what the heck and call back. Amazing how much you can get done in a couple of days when someone is coming to check out your house. Today someone came by to photograph the inside of my house. Fortunately, they were thin enough to squeeze through my furniture maze. Wow, my house could be famous!!!
Times like this I long to be thinner, just in case some celebrity starts hanging out at my house. So, of course I ate a salad for lunch…tacos for dinner (a taco is like a salad right?). Then I watched Dancing with the Stars and imagined myself on the show, after my house blog catapults me into celebrity status. Louis van Amstel will be my dance partner. Yep, the guy paired with people that don’t have a prayer of winning.
We will see….
So, after pottery class, I am greeted by torrential rain. And of course I need gas. Nothing like a nice cold outdoor shower to cool you waaaay down. Feet soaked by the mini rapids shooting past my car. The road to the gas station is completely covered in water, if you can’t see the road you don’t have to stay in the lines, right?…it’s like a toddler coloring. The gas station side of town is plunged in darkness, can I even get gas? I have to say there are few things sadder than darkened golden arches, no after class snack for me. *sigh*
Luckily, my gas station must have some back-up power. I read the warning messages, before getting gas… turn off your engine, don’t use your cell phone, beware of static electricity. No warnings about getting gas in the middle of a lightening storm. I figure I am safe. Because there is no such thing as a stupid warning, if it’s not there, it’s not dangerous. Don’t you like those signs that ask: Hey, did you remember to bring your baby or did you forget and leave them in the sweltering car? That’s the job I want, writing warning signs for the clueless.
Fortunately, I survived the gas station/electrical storm scenario.
Only to risk death by hyperthermia as my soaked body enters my icy cold refrigerated house.
Finally AC…now that summer is almost over. On the flip side, I won’t freeze this winter.
And I got into Battle of the Bowls!
I feel a little dull now. Working on another room. Contemplating repairing drywall cracks, caulking, painting….The most challenging thing is I am doing some exterior painting. My friends look at me like I am nuts. But really what is the difference? Paintbrush and a can of paint. Seems pretty basic to me. Even the guy I hired to get me started suggested I could have this young spry guy do the outside painting. Hopefully, this is not one of those times when I go man, what was I thinking. It really is harder to brush on paint in the elements.
I am feeling a little cold, I need to turn down that AC, feel like I am in a refrigerator.
So five AC guys later…still no central air.
I know most people think if they could just win the lottery they would buy a gigantic house. ME…I think, hey, I could fix my house. Maybe I could buy a skinny little heat and air guy…oh, yeah, I think that is called human trafficking. Just my luck, I win the lottery and immediately end up in prison. I would be featured on that show about people who win the lottery and ruin their lives.
I am sure if I ended up on TV it would be some terrible show like “Snapped”, “Hoarders”, “48 Hours Mystery”, or “Biggest Loser”. I am imagining myself standing on that podium in a sports bra. Followed by a tearful story about my emotional eating due to abandonment by heat and air men. Anonymity not such a bad place to live.
When was setting up my blog there was this section, I think it was to type words to block malicious senders from your site. If it wasn’t then I am a little embarrassed, because I typed in every filthy work I could think of. Afterwards I felt really dirty and in need of a shower. Hopefully this effort has blocked one or two people. I suppose an obvious word to have included is Viagra. Why does anyone need Viagra anyway? For goodness sake get a hobby, take a walk, fly a kite…stop being so stinking one dimensional. Become a handyman! Maybe not my handyman, but someone’s handyman. Run for office. Eat green eggs and ham. Think of all the things you are missing out on.
Maybe you could paint your house a lovely shade of pink.
I have decided all the competent handymen have shows on HGTV. I watch those shows where home miracles are performed. I come to believe home improvement and home repairs are within my grasp. One day I realize snagging an amazing handyman is as likely as dating a Hollywood movie star. What I need to do is get on one of those shows. Is it possible that they would have a show featuring HAC guys? The show could be called Air Conditioning Impossible. I volunteer to be on the first episode. Here is the drama leading up to my rescue by the larger than life HGTV celebrities with solutions to all your housing problems.
After creating questionable pathways to the crawlspace of my house. I finally get two local heat and air guys to come over. I took off two days to be there while the work was being done. I am fantasizing about cool air wafting from my vents, toasty winter nights. No dice. The guys came, they said it would be super expensive, if they would even do it. I call the company later that day hoping for some positive feedback. I am a pariah. An office with only 3 employees has no idea as to the whereabouts of the others.
SO in a act of desperation I call the heat and air company that I have worked with forever. I ask where I am at on the waiting list . They explain there have just been so many heat and air emergencies…other more desperate individuals than me that have taken precedence. I ask, so how long have I been on the waiting list…SINCE APRIL!!! IT IS JULY!!!! I pretend to not be offended, that this wait is perfectly normal. Hey, I am happy to wait, more than happy. I patiently explain that it is pretty DARN hot here. Heck, I could host revivals in my house, just imagine eternity in this kind of heat. Yep, no central air in hell. My house could be a very effective evangelical tool. I am shocked the heat and air people show mercy on me and will have someone stop in on Tuesday evening…just to take a look. I thank God, that somehow the disparaging remark I made about my heat and air provider were somehow not posted on Angie’s list . Angie’s List a great way to burn bridges. Maybe, if this last ditch effort doesn’t work out I could look for a competent arsonist on Angie’s List. Oh, I guess that would be Craig’s List.
ENTER AMAZING HGTV HOME IMPROVEMENT CELEBRITIES EVERYTHING IS CLEVERLY RESOLVED IN 40 minutes!!!! Life is golden again…all is right with the world.
Back to reality. I wonder if my boss is going to stop believing next time I take off yet another day to deal with the HAC situation. He will start looking at me like that employee that has killed off grandma numerous times. Unemployment would definitely put a damper on my efforts to get things rolling with an HAC guy.
Maybe I will start looking forward to work, a place crawling with HAC guys. Apparently HAC guys have no problem climbing on roofs.
When I read the sales pitch for starting your own blog, I was super impressed by the potential to earn 6 figures. Quit my job and become another Internet success story, the 21st century American dream. Sign me up, the sooner the better.
Shortly after jumping in impulsively, I realized you have to have valuable information to sell your blog. Something like how to find a good handyman. Forget it, never gonna happen. Or a how-to website on how to do the stuff you will never find a handyman to do. Or something easier like how to lose 50 lbs., marry a rich and handsome man, or win the lottery. I got nothin’.
Obviously I can’t get rich selling my art…hence the term “starving artist”. Maybe I could write a blog about being happy, without a handyman, rich/attractive spouse, millions in lottery winnings, and being a little on the plus size. I could rename my blog The Happy Starving Artist, The Happy Loser, Mundane and Proud of It???
By the way…I did finally find a handyman. On Angie’s List (a 6 figure website). He cut through two of my floor joists. Now my floor feels jiggly. I am afraid of falling through the floor, the need to lose 50 lbs has become a urgent need. Then he bent the crap out of my air exchange dealy (OK, maybe that is not a real word…HECK this ain’t scrabble leave me alone spell check). Now I need another handyman to check out the work this guy did and maybe fix it. But at least the air conditioner repair people can get under my house now. YES that is right no central air. The weather man is saying things on the forecast about heat dome. You want heat dome? Come to my house I am living under my own personal heat dome. No central air all summer long. BUMMER You would think the pounds would melt off, walking into my own personal sauna each evening…but no. Just hot and plus-sized. Several people have asked, “Have you ever thought about selling your house?” OR maybe you should move. Obviously, they are reality based individuals that can see finding a handyman is highly unlikely. Apparently realtors are much more accessible.
I’ll bet realtors make 6 figures.
At least my house is a delightful shade of pink.