My father would be shocked, SHOCKED to find me doing manual labor. But the house needs some new paint and Kate has been grumbling about how it is time to repaint the exterior. I borrowed a nice ladder from Randy on Saturday and went to get some supplies this Sunday morning. I began scraping the exterior where some of the old paint was flaking and man was that a workout. Standing on a ladder is no fun either, my legs were sore from going up and down. Meanwhile, up at an altitude of about 9 feet (but felt like 40) I managed to knock my glasses off while reaching up and plop, right into the small bucket of paint. Blind, pissed and scared, I made my way down and was able to wash off my glasses.
Kate came out to see my progress and took some pictures, for posterity I am sure, since I will probably not paint the house again, ever. I still have plenty of trim work to do and I have a second coat to put on, so this may turn out to be a three-weekend job. But at least I started and I am seeing results.
I see why people put siding on their houses now instead of painting. What a pain in the patookie.