In June of 2015 the longsuffering Lair finally got its siding. This was like six years after the structure was otherwise complete, by which time the underlayment was not in great shape.
2015 was deep into my “you too can live on $30 a week” phase, which is why it took so long to buy the siding – only TUAK readers made it possible – and except for the south wall which sees most of the weather and all the drippage the siding was, shall we say, not of the finest. Not of the worst, but…
Well. It’s been nine years.
And the last coat of paint was five years ago, which is going too long between coats. In particular, the east wall turned out to be rather more susceptible to weather and sun damage than I expected.
So I’ve been spending all my work time so far on the east wall and haven’t yet cracked a bucket of paint. Doing a lot of caulking to catch up with shrinkage and in one case where the siding had delaminated and peeled…
…sort of adding material.
Anyway, I’m ready to paint at last. Actually painting that wall doesn’t really take any time at all. Having tried every method of working from a ladder I could think of, which resulted mostly just in stress, I finally just invested in a very long paint pole.
If Gawd had wanted us to get up high painting stuff, He/She/It woulda evolved us some anti-gravity anklets like Mercury. Or something. Tall, wobbly ladders are the work of Satan. I know four guys who tested the theory of gravity the hard way. Two got bunged up; two spent a year in rehab. Joel done good by staying on terra firma.
Yes! Painting is 50% about preparation, 45% about buying the best paint you can find for the job, and 5% about actually applying the paint. Okay, maybe 98% preparation, and 98% buying the best paint.
Were you literally living on $30 a month
$30 a *week*. Yes, and also emphatically no. My only dependable income was a $30 shit shoveling gig. Plenty of times that was the only money coming in. But I also had a thriving blog-related care package industry in the background, I was firmly planted between the landfill and all the principal neighbors (“People throw away the damndest things”), and there was the occasional labor gig for cash. If I’d really been stuck with only the shit shoveling gig I couldn’t possibly have kept going as many years as I did but I mostly relied on barter and recycling and arguably charity.