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Dear Readers,

Thank you so much for visiting. If you care to follow my story from the beginning, I encourage you to click on the oldest post first and make your way to newer entries. In so doing, hopefully, you will see the hand of God in my healing journey that started in April, 2009.

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Better And Not So NICE!!!

Posted Sep 17, 2010 917 months into widowhood)

My life has taken a drastic u-turn, returning me to my home full-time, as my role of caretaker is no longer needed. Thank you to all of you who have prayed for my mom; she still needs the prayer support. I wish I could report that she is doing much better, but she is still dealing with nerve pain and her physical therapy takes its’ toll on her. However, she is living somewhat independently as she so desired. I know Mom is happy to have us out of her hair.

Since returning to my home, I have been doing so much better emotionally and I have been trying to restore the order I crave and catch up on my homeowner responsibilities. One task I was dreading was some outdoor painting. The exterior of my home is pretty much maintenance free as we planned, but the outside doorways needed painting, because our home arrived with only a primer coat. The final coat was our responsibility. Two years worth of exposure to the elements was starting to make the primer disappear. I knew I couldn’t procrastinate any longer.

Did I mention I hate to paint! That would be because, even with all my efforts to do a good job and doing all the prep work, I still inevitably make a mess in spite of the fact that I am the slowest painter you will ever know! If my Bofren were still here, this would have been his job, which he would have tackled with no problem. He was quick and gifted in his painting skills and rarely even used a drop cloth. He always did a fine job, effortlessly! I try so hard to paint neatly, but it never happens. I always end up with paint all over my hands and clothes. I wear my painting uniform because I know myself. I would be embarrassed to mention how long this project took, but I was semi-pleased with the outcome, and moving on to the clean up process.

I had been using a children’s sand bucket full of water to clean my paintbrush. My plan was to dispose of the milk colored water, down my kitchen drain, as I don’t have a utility sink. I was one step away from my target, when the handle on the bucket broke and I was facing an enormous mess! The diluted paint decorated all my lower cabinets and very quickly spread across three quarters of my sizable kitchen floor. I surprised myself with the volume of the four-lettered word that slipped from my tongue. I am happy to be able to say that the not so colorful word that escaped was a hardy: NICE! Had my neighbor not been operating his weed eater, I know he would have heard me.

At first, I was frozen with shock, but knew I better think fast or it was going to get a lot worse. So, I grabbed a bunch of my white bath towels and corralled the pond as best I could. Then, I cried as I cleaned up the mess! Crying over a gallon of spilled milk seemed quite legitimate to me.

So, obviously, I have more reason to detest painting. I still have the final coat to apply, so I solicit your prayers for tomorrows project. Never again, will I use a children’s bucket to do an adult’s bucket job! Thanks for checking in on me.

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