If I had a dollar . . .

. . . for every time I've said "Oh shit!" while painting, I would be able to pay a painter to do the kitchen for me. It's all coming along very nicely though, and I love the bright yellow on the living room walls. I didn't know if using the same bright color in the other part of the living room would be too much, but I am going to go for it.

With every house I've had I was always told to "paint white for resale" and although I used some muted colors in my Virginia condo, I didn't do anything bold (and of course had to paint white before selling). Even here I changed my mind at the last minute about the bedroom walls, and I regret it. So the living room will be my joy.

I have said that I used to be so good at painting, but have to admit I now cut a few corners and get sloppy once in a while. I'm the one living with it, and if I don't care then it's okay in my book. Specifically, I know I should have taken down the hardware at the double sliding door entry. There are vertical blinds there, and they work all right for me - the late afternoon sun makes a brief appearance through this doorway, and if it is extremely bright I can just tilt the verticals slightly and still see what's going on outside. I should say that Lady can see what's going on outside. That is her post, right in front of the doors and if only she could talk she could tell you exactly what is going on in the neighborhood. The hardware being so close to the ceiling makes it difficult to paint the very top of that wall, and I think I got some yellow paint on one or two of the blinds. It's not where anyone can see it though, so it will just be my secret!

In every room of this house there are blank outlet covers - not used for anything that I can see although they probably provide access to some electric wires. In all the other rooms I carefully painted around them, but now I'm painting over them. I like it much better as they blend in with the wall so well. I know better than to paint over outlet covers and switch plates because of the likelihood you will some day have to remove one of them. I discovered, however, that many professional house painters just spray over them. In my last apartment there were a couple of places where I couldn't get the plug into the wall through all that paint.

I awoke very early to the wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread, so of course I got up and had two slices while it was still warm enough to melt the butter. I may have two more for lunch! Donald's mom gave me her breadmaker since she never uses it. Her late husband made the bread. I had my doubts because I gave away a machine that didn't make the kind of bread I wanted, and I also used Donald & Jeannie's machine to try out. I was really considering trying it by hand like in the old days, but this one made the perfect loaf on the first try! The funny thing is that I set the timer delay before I pressed the proper buttons for "French bread" and "Medium crust", and while I was very accurate with most measurements I just eyeballed a couple. If I have any of the loaf long enough for it to get stale I plan to make my own croutons. Just taking a look at the ingredients listed on the commercially made croutons made me decide I'd rather make my own and not put all that crap into them. So for now I've been eating my salads without croutons but not for long.

As I re-read what I've written I realize it sounds like I'm a bit defensive. That's probably because I am just a little defensive. It isn't easy transforming from someone who was a perfectionist (and dissatisfied with anyone who wasn't)*** into an easy-going laid-back woman! It also isn't easy to realize I'm not perfect and don't do anything perfect. Maybe the past was just a mirage!

One last observation: I don't think I ever had any spam comments on my blog until Blogger started "catching" spam. Now I get lots of it. Coincidence?

*** I should have phrased this differently. I thought if I wanted something done right I would have to do it myself. I wasn't necessarily dissatisfied with other people, but I wanted to do it my way. My late ex husband played this like a violin. That wily old fox became terrible at painting, glazing windows, caulking, and you name it. Of course I could do it better than he did, and he got the last laugh. He's probably laughing his butt off wherever he is now.