You've heard about the naked chef... let me introduce the naked painter.
Well... ok, not totally naked, but then again, Jamie Oliver wasn't totally naked either. If he was, I sure missed it.
See, on Sunday I finally gave in and painted a third coat on the one finished wall in the kitchen. It had been niggling at me for days... to do another coat, not to do another coat... I had to do it so I could sleep again.
When I decided to paint I was wearing a nice pair of track pants (ones without paint on them) and one of Wayne's Tshirts. Given the track pants are one of a fast dwindling supply of non-paint-enhanced clothing in my wardrobe, and the Tshirt didn't belong to me, I did what any lazy DIY-er in the grip of an urgent need to paint would do.
I stripped down to my undies and got on with it.
Wayne walked through while I was up on a ladder with a brush in my hand and said he liked my outfit.
Today I found splotches of China White on a pair of undies when I hung them on the line.
Eh. No one will see those anyway.
So, you may ask, other than prancing around on ladders semi naked while waving around brushes loaded with paint, how goes the kitchen renovation?
Well. The electrician and Aurora have both been and done their thing. The power meters have been moved to the new box, all wiring has been reconnected and all is well.
We can now get started again.
Handyman will be back this week to put in the new window... and the fun continues.