Gettin’ it done between t-storms

The walls were too wet to paint when I came out this morning, so I figured I’d better dig for a while.0704150943The little gully that empties into my front yard just needs some help encouraging the water to turn right. I’ve got about half the approach dug out, then I’ll need to go deeper and wider at the elbow. Once the water is headed away from my porch I don’t really care what it does. I dig this thing out every year at this time, and then between flood-borne silt and laundry water it gradually fills back in.

But by the time I’d gotten this far I was getting some sun, which quickly dried the plywood on the east side of the house. So I set up the ladder and scaffold and got to work on the main project of the day.0704150939First coat done on the east side! The Lair is starting to look like somebody’s – a better class of somebody’s – house!0704150940That only leaves the front to do, and then I’ll get to work on trim. But by 9:30 the clouds were already turning black and booming, so I needed to clean up and get things squared away. You do not want the rain beating on wet paint, for reasons I hope are fairly obvious. Today was actually predicted to be rainy all day, so I’m pleasantly surprised to have gotten as much painting in as I did.

About Joel

You shouldn't ask these questions of a paranoid recluse, you know.
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3 Responses to Gettin’ it done between t-storms

  1. Paul Bonneau says:

    “I dig this thing out every year at this time, and then between flood-borne silt and laundry water it gradually fills back in.”

    It’s a long row to hoe, fighting the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics. 🙂

  2. Tennessee Budd says:

    Apparently I missed a post somewhere, Uncle Joel: I thought there was supposed to be a door on the balcony level of your manse.
    If it’s too painful to discuss (perhaps literally), I’m sure someone will point me to the relevant post.

  3. Joel says:

    You missed a post? Why I oughta…

    Yeah. Door too tall. Then on the way down from the balcony, also smashed like a tacky glass unicorn figurine in a wood chipper.

    So we’ve all agreed to stop asking Joel about the door.

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