Casper is boring me. Or to be more precise, sitting in front of a computer ten hours a day and then coming home to, as Dean likes to call it, our hotel room, bores me. After work we take Angus for a walk, eat dinner, clean up, watch TV, go to bed, get up the next day and do it again. Consequently when we come to Sheridan, where we are this weekend, I’m always looking for something to do. SOMEthing to do besides watch TV in a half-empty house. That’s why a few weeks ago I decided we should pull off the paneling, get the walls textured and then paint them. I really needed something to DO that didn't involve a remote control or a computer.
We've torn off the paneling. It's been textured and we've been doing a bit of painting.
 |
| I really hope soon I will be able to show you the finished project. |
We’ve spent the last three weekends up here priming and painting ceilings and walls. Gosh, I’m beginning to hate painting. But I hate being bored more.
Last weekend when we were up here Dean said, “I need to tell you something.” My heart sank. “Oh, no, he found out I threw away the dog fur the last time I brushed Angus” I thought. But no. It was much less traumatic. He just told me that once we’ve finished with this living-dining room redo, I need to find a
project that doesn’t involve him.
This weekend, as much as I wanted to finish the last bit of painting, I told Dean he could do whatever he wanted to all day long on Friday. Anything he wanted. All day.
Because I knew Saturday it was supposed to rain and THEN we could finish painting. I thought he would spend this gift from me
organizing his garage/workshop so he could frame the windows and put on the
baseboards in the house so he’d be able to
Since it was a warm and gorgeous day I decided to keep myself busy by trimming the potentilla. By time I’d finished clipping and hauling 15 branch and dead-leaf filled tarps my body hurt so much Dean had to help
me get up off the couch where I had dropped
after stumbling in from the yard. My hand might have been a bit less claw-like if he would have realized the big 2-handle hedge
shears didn’t work because the screw that was loose was in the clippers, not my head, and not because I was “probably
clipping at an angle instead of straight on.” But on the bright
side, after using the smaller hand-held pruning shears my fingers were curled in the exact
position I would need to hold a paintbrush later, and the scabs and scratches
on my forehead and arms shouldn’t leave a scar.
Later, in the wee hours of the night as I was fumbling for the
Ibuprophen, a family hike in the Tongue River Canyon sounded like a much better plan for Saturday than more painting or yard work.
Dean managed to contain
his disappointment that we wouldn’t be painting.
 |
| Where's Myra?! |
 |
| Where's Angus?! |
Pierce and Emerson asked him geology
questions and even listened when he answered which was a totally new experience
for him.
We headed home just before the rain started
and on the drive I saw three bald eagles. Every time I saw
one perched high on a tree I thought about asking Dean to stop so I could take
a picture but then I'd think it would just be a waste of time since all I have is a little point
and shoot camera. I finally decided that
was just stupid so when I saw a Golden in a tree I decided just because I didn’t
have a fancy camera with a telephoto lens it wasn’t a good not reason to try.
I should have had a fancy camera
with a telephoto lens.
This morning we woke up to winter. I knew it was too early to think we wouldn’t
get any more snow but, like dying, even though I know it’s inevitable, it’s
hard to truly believe it’s really going to happen to me. There was no yard work today. There was no hiking today. Dean wishes there had been no painting
today. But I wasn’t bored.
◦
2 comments:
Today the kids declared it was Christmas! At least we got to hike yesterday!
What beautiful snow pictures, especially that last one.
Post a Comment