But get this. Just listen. I had some stupid brainwave at the end of last week involving reading the paint can and seeing what the lowest rated temperature was for it to work and still dry in a moderate amount of time.
So I take the long and harrowing journey down to the basement storage room, pull out the can, and guess what? That stupid exterior paint will dry in temperatures as low as 2 degrees. TWO.
Remember that day when it was sunny and NINE and I was like, OH MY GOSH, YOU GUYS! THERE'S NO WAY PAINT'LL DRY AT 9 DEGREES! DAMN MY LUCK!
There. I'm a total idiot.
Anyway, regardless of my own foibles, I've actually got a lot of the trim painted already and I've only been at it two days. Mind you, I've only painted the trim I can reach while balancing precariously on my too-short ladder in the most awkward of spots, but that's still a large chunk of it done.
And I've come to realize that there are no good ladder spots anywhere but on the porch. The lawn? Heck no. The driveway? You'd think so, but you'd be wrong. Oh, and don't even get me started on how stupid it was trying to paint the wooden trim just behind The Bed of Junipers today. It was like a total gymnastics routine. Good thing I realized I could reach most of the flower box from the ground because I really didn't feel like negotiating the ladder in there -- again.
Now I'm completely covered in welts, and I'm pretty convinced I'm 100% allergic to junipers. And even though I was in the blazing sun, I wasn't a quarter way across when I decided it would be quite beneficial to make my way out of the junipers (again) to get my coat so at least my arms would be protected from them even though I knew I would be at risk for heat stroke. My hands...well, they've depuffed and I'm only marginally wanting to scratch the skin off them, so I've made some progress in that department finally.
I think if I were living in one of the houses across the street from mine, I would have parked my chair up to the window, popped some popcorn, and enjoyed "that crazy swearing girl's" juniper dance all afternoon. I'm not going to lie and say I wouldn't have been cheering for her to dump the paint all down the front of her shirt. She was teetering over unstable branches, stupidly carrying an almost full can of paint like a baby while holding the paint brush and using her other hand to grab wayward branches in order to stablize herself. She was totally asking for it.
The saddest thing is that I have to drag the ladder over there eventually, because I need to paint the top of the flower box. The flower box that can't sustain any flowers because it's too hot. That makes the task even more worthwhile.
I have been doing things in stages, though. And I'm trying really hard not to be anal about getting it all done promptly in one hour (like I do other things). So the first day, I did all the super easy yet time consuming stuff. And the only bummer that came out of that was that all the super easy stuff is now done and has even got a second coat on it already, so that's the end of my actual painting fun.
I do have a nice tip for you, regarding painting. As I said, I'm not painting everything perfectly in one day. I have other stuff to do, too, surprisingly.
So if you're thinking I'm packing up my paint and cleaning out my brush every time I quit, you'd only be half right. I am putting the lid back on the paint can. That's just good common sense.
The brush is another matter all together. Here's what you do in handy gif form!
Just wrap your paint brush up -- good and tight -- in some ordinary tinfoil. If I wanted to store it longer, I'd probably also put it in a plastic bag for extra air safety.
Then stick it in your fridge (if you want it to last longer, opt for the freezer)
your sad pathetically empty fridge
When you're ready to use it again, just warm it a little (from the freezer, warm it a lot), unwrap, and get to work! It's like you didn't even stop! Genius!
*disclaimer: this trick doesn't work if you want to store your paintbrush for more than a month or a year or some other crazy amount of time. It's just until you can get back to it. If that's not going to be until next spring, then, you know, wash it or toss it.
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