is rapidly draining away from my enfeebled being.
Amongst my many ill-assorted possessions are several items of cheap, mass-produced bits of furniture that could, if you stretch the imagination sufficiently (i.e. a lot), be transformed into a reasonable stab at a Scumble Goosie-type of loveliness at a fraction of the cost. The cost of paint, that is, not the human cost to my mental and emotional wellbeing.
So far, I have painted some walls (that was fine; quick and rewarding), primed a bookcase and a small table (slightly tedious and a bit smelly), and applied part of the first coat of paint on said bookcase. Still to be done: finish first coat, apply second coat, varnish twice. Then do the same with small tables (two) and a trunk. It's hardly technically taxing, but it's soooooooooooo boring, and I am soooooooooooo not in touch with my furniture painting side. Or maybe just bone idle. Whatever.
This may take some time, because of all the stopping to sigh, make cups of tea, read other blogs, look out of the window pondering the meaning of thrift, and consider the case for half-painted furniture as the new aesthetic.
Or, because she said that painting furniture was a lovely occupation, just persuading Lesley to take on the task in exchange for home made cakes and ice cream.
3 comments:
I think one of the reasons I felt at home with your blog is that your house is like mine - lots of 'vintage' pieces. In my case it includes lots of hand-me-downs as furniture just seems to do the rounds in my family, and we rarely seem to buy anything new. That's not to say that things don't go together though - I remember reading once that even if stuff didn't match, if it had been chosen by the same person, then it would have a cohesion about it. That's what I like to think, anyway.
I found myself thinking about your student problem this morning. Now I hate noise. I live in a quiet spot on the edge of town, with retired neighbours, and spend the day without the background noise of radio or TV, and would HATE to have my sleep disturbed. It was more the fact that they are medical students. One of my nephews spent 6 months in Newcastle last year, I think as a junior registrar, as he qualified a while ago. He is so quiet and self-contained that he actually failed his finals first time on the patient interaction/diagnosis exams. He is not at all shy, it's just against his nature to have the easy-going chat that most people take for granted, and he couldn't get information out of the patients. He has been like this all his life, and having two outgoing younger brothers probably didn't help, as they made enough commotion for all three.
He's in a lab now, working on cancer research and studying for a PhD, work to which he is far more suited.
He would have made a wonderful neighbour, but I think I would prefer one of your boisterous lot as doctors of the future. Easy communication seems to be something that just cannot be taught. But it must be difficult to deal with in the middle of the night!
Yes, I have that sort of furniture - the bits that are being painted are all recycled from friends or family, and not one of them matches the others in shade of nasty brown scratched varnish.
I'm reserving judgement on your positive view of those loud girls as doctors of the future! Listening doesn't seem to be a skill they possess. Still, they'll all be home for the summer soon, I hope.
Ahhhh - once again a girl "so" after my own heart. How about books on CD from the library to listen to and to help with the trance like painting state. I know you already listen to great radio programming so that's probably no good. I especially love that you, as well, stop for sighing breaks. I myself am an excellent sigh-er. In fact when I once worked in the land of cubicles my co-workers always knew when it was me coming down the hall - they could hear the sighing before they saw me.
I think your things will look stunning painting and I do also appreciate the oddly namedfurniture link. You crack me Up! you really do!
Paint On !
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