I started to pick at a loose edge. I'd been considering peeling it off. I was tired of looking at it. I knew wallpaper hadn't been a current trend in home decorating for a long time. The big yank that followed kicked off a series of actions I call exercise for a crazed woman.
I didn't stop there. I ripped off the wainscoting that skirted the entire breakfast nook and part of the kitchen. It turned out to be glued down with so much glue it ripped off globs of plaster off with every piece. So, I hauled each wood & plaster panel away and set it out by the garbage at the end of the driveway---should have worn my pedometer. I had to use big tubs of spackle, with an extra wide putty knife to get the wall back into shape. Couldn't believe how hard this stage was: sand, spackle, repeat. And, eventually paint.
Then, like a virus, I keep going. I noticed the entry way looked pretty doggy scratched and worn. Definitely in need of fresh paint on the walls, trim, and door. After I got all that done, I considered why my small foyer had a chair rail around it. Was that a 1950's thing? Since I was still in destructor mode, I got the hammer and chisel out, and ripped that right off. It was spackle time again! Did I have a problem? Or was this a good type of work out?
Seriously. I've never had this much energy for house work, but I headed to our bedroom where water damaged one wall after a raccoon had wrecked havoc on the gutter, pulling it away so water had a chance to seep down the wall. Not so cute. We had the raccoon, roof, and gutter taken care of a couple of years ago. So, I grabbed the wide scrapper, and put some muscle in it as I broke through the dried bubbled bumps. End result: repainted all walls and trim in a calming new neutral. It makes me happy.
The Energizer Bunny was still going, and I had to do something with the half bath. A candle with a wild wick had actually created sooty stuff on my ceiling and walls that wouldn't wash off. Had to repaint. Since I've loved the light blue and white Nantucket-y look I had in there, I just wanted to use my old paint. Except, I had no idea we had so much blue paint. I found 2 cans. I started with the lighter one and got through 3/4 of the room. It just wasn't lightening up to the right shade. I tried the 2nd can on most of the room. Way too bright. Geesh. I gave up and decided a nice light aqua would work. After my 15th trip to Home Depot in a week, I got the entire bathroom done. My husband gets home, looks at it, and says, what do you think? Yea. Then he tells me it'll be "fine." Right. Obviously, he's not a fan. Oh, well. It's done. Fresh, clean paint. A little while later, I run down to the basement's storage closet for more paper towels, and I notice a can of paint on the floor under the shelf. You guessed it. Blue ocean mist or something like that label downstairs bath in big black letters. And, it was 3/4 full. Some weeks are like that. I guess the fact the I didn't find my pretty blue paint gave me lots more exercise in addition to frustration. Does that count as a little extra to my workout routine?
You know, sometimes you just don't have to hit the gym, you get plenty of exercise doing house or yard work. And, lately, I really mean, house work!!
I'm really looking forward to that massage I scheduled this week for those overworked, achy muscles!