It was supposed to be an easy, brain-dead job: just slap up some primer and paint over walls that had already been skimcoated and prepped several years ago. But I quickly got derailed and had to spend a couple of evenings last week dealing with this. That wasn't in the plan, however it's an old house so, you know, what else is new? But it gets better.
I managed to pick the day that Tropical Storm Hanna hit Brooklyn to roll on the primer. Even before the rain the outside humidity felt something like warm chowder. I knew it wasn't going to be a good day to paint but I also didn't want to push this off another week. The last time I did that, a week became eight years.
The priming was uneventful. Painting isn't something I like to do. It's boring and there's way too much bending, climbing and twisting, especially with my back in the shape it's been the past week. Fortunately, my next door neighbor is a terrific chiropractor so he fixes me every evening so I can mess it up again the next day.
Cutting in around the stairwell ceiling was a bitch because it's so high: sixteen feet from the ceiling to the stairs. I don't have a ladder this tall so I borrowed my neighbor's 18 foot articulating ladder. John's ladder is heavy steel and weighs about 75 pounds. Just unfolding that thing is a chore, especially in a confined space with nice, finished floors I didn't want to gouge. I had to put the ladder into three different configurations to get the job done. After I finished, I reminded myself that I had to do it two more times to paint the ceiling and to paint the walls. Yay, fun.
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