My first stop was by storage to get another load of boxes. One of the boxes was too large for me to grab and too heavy for me to lift. I dragged it over to the car, tipped it in alternating directions, placing increasingly large boxes underneath the exposed side until I could get a corner onto the bumper and after a while managed to get it into the back. After that, I was only able to grab 2 other obscenely heavy boxes of books and magazines, so I filled the gaps with light boxes. Once home I had to disassemble the box in order to remove it. One of the 2 heavy items in it was nearly too heavy for me to carry.
I've never trimmed the feral roses we got with the house. The spouse has done research on that and gave me some tips. (When I mowed the front for the first time this year (yesterday) it was a challenge getting near where they were growing.) While cutting a dead branch off, I needed 2 hands on the clippers, leaving zero hands controlling the trajectory of the other end of the branch. Oops. I have an inch-long bloody scratch on my face, but it missed my eye, so I'm not complaining.
After finishing with the storage run and fighting with the rose bush, I changed into my grungies and went to paint for what I hoped would be the last time. I used the halogen utility light to hopefully find all the spots that needed touching up. I marked the spots I found with bits of "blue tape". I ended up with about 30 on the walls, 6 on the ceiling, and 3 on the trim color. I used my 2" brush right out of the can to do the ceiling work ... including the dozen or so other spots I found when my face was closer to the ceiling. Sealed that can and opened the wall color. This one I poured into a container to carry around with me, using the 1" brush. I continued my discovering that I'd only marked 1/4 to 1/3 of the actual spots I noticed when I was closer, so I was quite tired when I was done with that. Sealed that can, dropped all the "stuff" into a bucket of water, and opened the trim color can.
Before I go any further, I should digress momentarily. I hate
shopping. I begrudge the time I spend driving to the store, the time I spend finding what I need, and especially the time I spend in line waiting to pay. A bit ago I had realized that I was going to need to do some touch-up with a far smaller brush than I had. When I mentioned this in the presence of mrs_sweetpeach
, she held up her hand and disappeared from the room momentary. On her return, she proved herself as generous and resourceful as she is talented and beautiful. She had a set of artist paintbrushes, and gave me one.
I used my tiny brush to touch up the trim paint... but while I was at it, I noticed there were some wall-color spots that needed more paint. I marked them, and when I was done with the trim, I sealed the container, washed the brush downstairs in the utility tub, dried it pretty well on a paper towel and reopened the wall color. I did my touch-up, noticing as I did a few more places that needed trim color. Cleaned brush, sealed wall color, opened trim. Painted. Noticed ONE place that needed wall color. Sealed trim color, cleaned brush, opened wall color and I HOPE I'M DONE. (I did clean all the brushes and "stuff" downstairs.)
(Don't place any bets. A perfectionist is never
done. But I hope I'm done enough that I will decide that all the new stuff I find is just not worth my time.)