Written By Cathy
My father always said a fresh coat of paint hides many ills. This from a man who did everything within his power to avoid household chores. My mother loves to tell the story of the time Dad bought a gallon of paint, planning to paint the bedroom walls. A friend stopped by to tell him the fish were biting. That can of paint remained unopened for twenty years!
Anyway, this season of Fall Clean-Up my husband and I have rounded up the paint cans, brushes, sandpaper, and spackling and tackled the task of freshening up the old place. The kitchen got a fresh coat of khaki which made the new backsplash pop. But most rewarding was tackling the outside shutters. They had faded from a welcoming medium green to a nondescript grayish mold color-not at all the look we were aiming for.
Now, our home is two-and-a-half stories so painting the shutters entailed climbing ladders and going out on the roof. Not a job for the faint of heart, but not too complicated for a twenty-something, thirty-something, forty-something… Unfortunately we are sixty-somethings! And not quite as spry as we used to be. I was working safely at ground level(no fool here) on the shutters at the porch when I heard a dreadful crash and the sound of limbs snapping. I wish I could say I remained calm. Think-NOT! I ran to find my partner picking himself up out of the rhododendron. His shirt was torn where a bough had failed to impale him, but the holes were evidence of the close call. Over my cries, his voice rose, reassuring me. Nothing was injured but his pride. The ladder had toppled, but he still had good reflexes, “quick as a cat” he tells me.
So for now we have survived the Fall Fix-Up. But just around the corner is the season of Serious Exterior Illumination. I think we’ll skip the Griswold’s retina-wrenching Christmas lights on rooftop and eaves and stick with candles in the windows and our feet planted firmly on the ground.