Build raised planter beds. Check.
Fill raised beds with designer dirt. Check.
Plant seeds. Check.
Wait for rain. No, snow. No, it’s rain. Check.
Curse the squirrels that dig up my asparagus starters. Check.
It’s April 30 and I’m nearly freezing because today’s weather oscillates between beautiful and sub-arctic. Currently it’s on the sub-arctic swing. I had planned on mowing, applying fertilizer, killing some weeds and spending time in the sun because, hello!, it’s April 30! Alas, I moved indoors to work on one of the hundreds of items on my to-do list. Today it was to try to faux finish the laundry room floor. But the window, which looked like it had last had a paintbrush applied to it in 1967, distracted me.
Being the strategerist thinker that I am, I thought to myself: I should do that window before I do the floor because I won’t be able to walk on the floor whilst it dries. That shouldn’t take much time, right? That was at 11 a.m. today. It’s now 6:30 p.m. and the window is laughing at me. After sanding and painting the trim, I moved on to the actual window. It’s the original window installed in 1941. It’s made of wood and, don’t ask me how, it somehow is still in one piece despite the exposure to the elements over the last 70 years.
The inside facing part needed some sanding and a little painters’ caulk prior to painting. OK. An hour here, and hour there and the inside is drying with a pretty coat of new white paint. The outside facing side, however, was a project and a half.
After chipping away at the remnants of some kind of window caulk, which had cracked and peeled and was almost gone, I used my magic Durham’s Water Putty to seal the window and repairs several cracks in the wood. Now I’m waiting for that to dry. And waiting. And waiting. In the mean time I stripped the hinges and hardware of 70 years of paint to reveal shiny brass.
I guess I’ll faux finish the floor tomorrow.