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Posts Tagged ‘painting’

The Love Bug wanted to paint her bedroom her favorite color, BLUE, before school started, and sure her Mother could have hired a painter, taken the easy route. But where’s the fun in that? And what kind of lesson does outsourcing send to our kids? And though we haven’t done any painting in a dog’s age, we offered to help. Bob went to the paint store with them to get everything they needed – the rollers, brushes, tape, etc. And Saturday, the Grands came over to cart our long ladder over to their house. They were ready to begin.

I’ve lost track of how many rooms I’ve painted over the years. It’s never been a solitary activity. You order pizza, buy some beer, and invite your friends over to help paint. We even bartered a paint job with a tenant in the basement apartment of the medical school foursquare in Charlottesville. Free rent if he painted his apartment, which he did! We did a lot of painting and wallpapering in NJ, but right about the time we started building our house in the Blue Ridge Mountains, we realized it was best if the painting was left to the professionals. Also, we hit middle age.

Painting is a young person’s game.

The first day was all about preparation – laying down tarps, moving furniture, spackling picture holes and cracks, sanding and taping the trim. I forgot how much of painting is actually just getting ready to paint. The next day we were ready to begin. I offered to bring lunch, which was appreciated since the Groom was on call in the MICU and the Bride had two Bluebird appointments. I mean what else could I do? Ladders are verboten to me, and she has cathedral ceilings!

I did help pick the shade of blue. When I asked Bob what colors the Bug was considering he said, “Sky blue, sky blue and sky blue.” I swear sometimes I think Bob is color blind. SO I marched myself over to their house in the middle of the week to look at the three swatches of blue on the Bug’s bedroom wall. One was too green. Of the remaining two periwinkle colors one was lighter than the other. Good thing I sided with the rest of the females in the family. The deeper shade won, Sherwin Williams’ “Something Blue.”

Picking out the wall colors for the casita was easy. I just asked my brilliant designer DIL, Aunt Kiki, what was hip in off-white these days. The last time I picked an off-white it was Navajo White, which almost looks beige. She told me she loves Swiss Coffee, and so I looked it up – it’s a creamy, warm off white with a balanced light reflection value (LRV), and looks great with natural woods according to the experts. It also looks good with my sage green kitchen cabinets.

But back to Funday Sunday After lunch, my main job was holding the ladder for the Love Bug, a most important role! After all, she was reaching eleven feet up in the air! The Pumpkin was relaxing since he was going to do most of the rolling with a very long handle, while Bob and the Bride used brushes to paint near the white trim. After a couple of hours, the Groom arrived back from the hospital to take over the tall, ceiling adjacent painting on the ladder. At one point, I was able to dab a little paint around her closet door, which was extremely satisfying.

We laughed, we told stories, we listened to Olivia Rodrigo on my phone. And now, the about to turn 14 beautiful Bug can say she painted her own room, with a little help from her fam. ps – just looked up Olivia Rodrigo tickets for her Nashville dates and she is sold OUT! Well, it was a good birthday present idea. ps Proposed amendment to the Torah – Parents teach your children how to swim and paint!

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Monday’s can be hard, let’s face it. You need to wake up early and get back to work, if you’re still working. You might just be a tad hungover from a fun weekend. And then, to top it off, many restaurants are closed on Mondays, don’t ask me why. So you return to your castle and slap together a sandwich or order pizza for dinner. But if you’re of a certain age, Monday can seem just like any other day.

Except yesterday was exceptional in a number of ways. First, we had the Love Bug delivered to us early because her parents were working and she’s out of school for the summer! Her brother’s pre-school in Belle Meade is still in session. Our little Kindergarten graduate showed up looking like Mata Hari with a long paisley scarf wrapped around her head.

I’d already watered the potted herbs, walked Ms Bean and started a load of laundry so we were free to play all day. But shopping for Great Grandma Ada took precedence, so we spent some time v e r y  s l o w l y riding different lift-recliners at our local surgical supply store. After that, we strolled through the Farmer’s Market picking up our favorite peanut butter and a bath bomb shaped like a heart. Pretty soon it was time for lunch, and Pop Bob told her, “Today, we’re having dessert first!

She ordered strawberry buttercream ice cream with sprinkles, I had fresh cherry and goat cheese while Bob stuck to his fave, butter pecan.

Little did I know that a hatchet murderer was on the run from a fitness center in Belle Meade and the L’il Pumpkin’s school was on lockdown. Our Sonos was tuned to classical music while the Love Bug and I started a paint-by-numbers present of the Bat Building for the Great Grandparents’ new Nashville apartment. Happy as clams while chaos unfolded just a few miles away in a genteel part of town.

The killer it seems had it out for the man who had fired him from his job a year ago. So it’s a workplace related homicide, which is only slightly reassuring, but there had been signs. For instance, he had been stopped in his car by Metro DC police for coming too close to the White House – and refusing to leave. He’d also referred to himself as “The Sun of God” on his Facebook profile… https://www.tennessean.com/story/news/2018/06/04/police-man-attacked-hatchet-belle-meade-strip-mall/668606002/

The Agatha Christie in me wants to make this more than just a paranoid schizophrenic nightmare for these families. Create intrigue where there is simply raw hate, anger and resentment; still I wonder if one law actually worked. Was the killer unable to buy a gun because of his previous run-ins with the law? Or did he just prefer  to terrorize a neighborhood and inflict pain on his victim?

Our Pumpkin returned home without ever knowing what was happening or why moms and dads seemed especially anxious while picking up their kids early yesterday. He always looks me straight in the eye, saying “I knew you would come,” and that always melts my heart.

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Holden 09 005 FB

Serenity in a mountain view

August and September are filled with birthdays in my family. The Bride and my sister Kay share back to back birthdays, I call us Virgo/Libra types (you can count me in later this month) – the Christmas party babies! Happy Birthday to them on this glorious weekend.

These two share more than a couple of dates on the calendar. Kay introduced the Bride to art in her New York City apartment. My sister studied at the Art Student’s League and she also helped to illustrate many medical books during her years working at Mt Sinai Hospital and producing graphic art for the Medical School. With sun pouring through her beautiful Upper East Side window overlooking a garden, the young Bride was given a pencil and a blank canvas along with the love and encouragement of her Aunt Kay.

Painting has been a common thread throughout both their lives. After a long high school day filled with too many AP classes, the Bride would settle into her art class and paint along with beautiful music.  My home is filled with drawings from those days. And Kay’s renditions of our farmhouse in the Berkshires, and our beautiful Welsh Corgis will always decorate our walls.

This meditative time, setting up the instruments of art, the pencils or delicate brushes and turpentine, the smells, the easel outdoors, the time alone to ponder and really see – to see their way into a subject – this bit of creation helped them deal with the everyday stress of school and work. It helped them to slow down.

The Bride sent me an article this week about being busy. http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/30/the-busy-trap/?_r=1&

Almost everyone I know is busy. They feel anxious and guilty when they aren’t either working or doing something to promote their work. They schedule in time with friends the way students with 4.0 G.P.A.’s  make sure to sign up for community service because it looks good on their college applications. I recently wrote a friend to ask if he wanted to do something this week, and he answered that he didn’t have a lot of time but if something was going on to let him know and maybe he could ditch work for a few hours. I wanted to clarify that my question had not been a preliminary heads-up to some future invitation; this was the invitation. But his busyness was like some vast churning noise through which he was shouting out at me, and I gave up trying to shout back over it.

The author, Tim Kreider, calls this addiction to busyness a kind of hedge against emptiness, an “existential reassurance.”  We impose it on ourselves and it makes us feel important. After all, if we’re always so busy, how can we ever take time off for self-awareness. He posits that you don’t hear people holding down two jobs with four kids complaining about being too busy, because they’re just plain exhausted. Interesting stuff, this monkey brain!

Surprisingly an old friend simultaneously posted an article about being a distracted parent, about always saying, “Hurry up!” to her child. And I could see how this attraction to being busy can get its start. The child who likes to dawdle, who stops to talk with strangers, who wants to engage with her environment soon learns to make a goal and stick to a time schedule. And if she or he doesn’t, they may be labeled “special” in school…instead of “artist.”

The Love Bug likes to stop for ice cream with her parents. Slowing down is something children can either help us to do, or we can teach them how to be anxious. We’re the adult in this equation, it’s our choice.  photo

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