Coating-19: the ‘Paintdemic’ of 2020
“We believe it is essential to put in place an action plan to supervise our youth, smokers and non-smokers, to make them aware of the dangers of tobacco and vape products and to support those who wish to quit,” said Mitchell-montcalm vice-principal Élaine Quintal.
As if being in the midst of this whole COVID-19 business wasn’t enough, I found myself recently in the middle of a ‘paintdemic.”
The two are quite similar. Both require wearing a mask, there is frequent hand washing with a variety of cleansing solutions and you have to be aware of touching just about any flat surface. The upside, in this case, is that I am able to rely pretty much on the efforts of my bride.
After considerable thought, She Who Must Be Obeyed decided recently to take advantage of the unseasonably mild November weather - and the fact that she has obviously too much time on her hands - to re-paint the bedroom. This, I may add, is a perfect example of what I have previously described in this space as the ‘nesting’ imperative that seems to govern all women.
Painting, for most men, is one of those household activities that should be avoided at all costs. A properly applied coat of colour in any given room ought to last in the area of twenty-five years or so. On the other hand, most women have the strange idea that walls should be ‘refreshed’ or ‘lightened up’ every four or five years; a belief that can only be explained genetically.
Since I had made it quite clear at the start of our relationship that I only paint under the most dire of circumstances I was assured by the love of my life that my part in this latest endeavour would be minimal. In this case ‘minimal’ would involve dismantling the bed and emptying the room of furniture and, oh yes, plastering and sanding holes.
I should explain. My sweetheart is, among other things, artistically inclined. She herself is a dab hand at painting and enjoys and appreciates the artistic work of others. As a result the walls of our bedroom are decorated with a number of paintings. Over the years theses paintings have been changed from time to time and from place to place as have the hooks, fasteners and nails that hold them up; thus the holes.
Plastering and sanding completed we started on the bed. Now, the bed in question is the size of a small football field, with two mattresses and two sets of box springs. This size was necessitated because I am what you might call a restless sleeper prone to rolling or turning about every three minutes all night. The arrangement allows my better half to rest undisturbed.
The two of us managed to remove mattresses and springs and haul them to the safety of the living room, which left only the frame. The mistress of the house suggested we could just slide it away from the wall and she would work around it. Sliding the frame over thick carpet proved to be a non-starter, however, since the legs stuck at every attempt. The only logical solution was for me to attach casters to each leg. A trip to the hardware store and some skillful tipping of the frame and the casters were installed: the bed moved easily around the room.
It was at this point that She Who Must Be Obeyed noticed that the legs supporting the slats in the centre of the bed were now three inches off the floor – the exact length of the newly installed casters on the four corners. The only solution was to install four more casters down the centre line of the frame. Fortunately, I had some smaller casters on hand (rule #1 of DIY home maintenance: never throw anything away) and with a bit of drilling, grunting and shoving they were installed.
As to the painting itself? Everything went smoothly. I could see the progress, each time I walked by the bedroom door.