It's not the painting, it's the prep.

There have been many a time when,  lying there semi-comatose on my big comfy couch down in the "Man Cave",   that I've thought that maybe,  someday,  possibly,  I'd give the whole place a paint job.

I like thoughts.   Thoughts are great.  They require minimal effort.

Then along comes T.C. who,  during our trip back from Ottawa (well,  Osgoode really)  last weekend, (no,  a week ago last weekend...) managed to "rearrange the whole house".   Here I thought she was having a little shut eye but NO,  she was THINKING.

There's a big difference,  between the way I "think" about things,  and the way T.C. "thinks" about things.   When T.C. engages in this activity,  it usually means work.

For me.

 So, along with moving random dressers,  beds and desks,  there was going to be some painting.

Ooof.


Oh ya,  forgot to mention.

Took a little road trip last week. (no Bob,  two weeks ago.)

Sister-in-law and hubby who live in Kingston,  had (wait for it) taken the train to Toronto a few weeks back,  stayed overnight at another sister-in-law's place,  and then flown off to San Diego for a visit/vacation.  Her hubby has two brothers in California.  Of course,  they naturally counted on taking the train once again back to Kingston from Toronto.

See where this is going?

They arrived back in Toronto on the Tuesday (a week ago)  and having come to terms with the train issue,  thought they'd take the BUS to Kingston.

You may or may not be aware that there have been some rail disruptions in this country due to some land disputes with some of our First Nations.  I'm not going to get into it,  'cause I'll just say something I shouldn't.  Even though it may very well be the very thing that every one is thinking.

A while back already,  we had been thinking of taking a wee trip out that way for a visit,  as both the Kingston Party and the Osgoode Parties had come for their usual Christmas visit,  and I was looking forward to showing up at their respective doors and getting fed and lubricated.

Didn't plan on driving though.

It's been a long,  long time since I ever took a bus most anywhere in this country,  and taking a bus to either Kingston or Ottawa has me hearkening back to some time in the 70s.   I was a student then,  and bus fare was something I could afford, and besides, I didn't have a car at the time.

Skip ahead some 40 years.  Um,  I don't take no bus.  And I don't expect anyone else close to my age or older to it either.

Besides, ever heard of The Corona virus?   To me,  a bus would just be a smaller version of a Petri dish,  such as those really big Petri dishes, that on the outside look suspiciously like a cruise ships.



So,  we drove off to Toronto a week ago last Thursday morning to fetch the Travellers,  and continues on to Kingston.   We didn't stay in Kingston,  even though we were invited,  as I know perfectly well that,  when I've been away for any length of time,  the very last thing I would want, would be to play host to a couple folks who,  even though they may have provided some very timely transportation,  are still going need a bed made up and food put on the table. 

Besides,  it was only another couple hours to get to Osgoode,  so as to mooch off the other set of Christmas guests.   Also,  it was my sister's birthday (indeterminate age,  but she's older than me)  She lives in Nepean (part of greater Ottawa)  and we wanted to see her on her birthday.

All well and good.

Skip then ahead to getting home and getting to work.

It's OK.   Really.  I don't mind too much.  Except that,  in "Bob Land",  we don't just prime and paint over the crappy jobs that have gone on before. 

First of all,  back in 1992,  when we built this apartment,  there was a bit of a push on to get it done in a timely fashion.  Took long enough to clean out all the junk,  come up with some sort of layout,  cut up the concrete floor for the plumbing,  and then get on with putting up walls, etc.

As a result,  there were several "hands" at work.  With varying degrees of skill,  let's say?   So there was that.

Then skip ahead to around 2001,  and Daughter Number Two and one of her college buddies thought they'd paint.  Well.  I'll not say much,  except that I'm now taking the time to first of all fix some of the dry walling boo-boos from way back,  and then sorting out some of the other "issues".   Like,  I just spent maybe a half hour scraping paint off of a phone jack that should have been removed,  and not half painted over.

That sort of thing.

And yes,  once upon a time,  we had these things called "phone jacks".   Old school I realise.  But I either keep it in its place,  or patch the ensuing hole once I take it out.  Either way,  pain in the ...

You might notice up at the top of that one window there,  where you can see the corner bead?  Wasn't done properly.  Had to scrap off the very thin layer of drywall compound and fix it by taping it,  and then applying more mud.

So I did get one wall completely done,  and some stuff put back in that corner.  I initially,  naively thought I'd completely remove the cantilevered cabinet where that TV is sitting,  but thought better of it. 

Too many wires.

And,  that's life here at The Ponderosa.

Just when you think you're "retired".

Ha!


Thanks for stopping by.

Keep that stick on the ice.