Who Needs Marital Counseling When the Man Wears Carhartts?

Ken and I always seemed to move in October and when I was pregnant. Since we were eternally busy tearing out and putting stuff back, we grew to think that was normal. I am naturally lazy, so I have to put enormous pressure around myself so that I'm forced to get things done. That's where this November's project came into being. I could see that big Turkey Day 2017 looming and saw my chance to make myself miserable for a couple of weeks so I'd have to get it finished. I invited the family for Thanksgiving and got started. 

When we bought this lovely Victorian home in Villa Rica, five years ago, there were so many cool things about it. Twelve foot ceilings, intricately patterned hardwood floors, five fireplaces, stained glass, a walk-in pantry, and too many other things to mention here. It had been beautifully maintained even though the walls were uglier than a mud hut, with all the dark 80's wallpaper and colors. Each room was its own entity, with no flow or continuity. I've been working on putting that right, with some rooms being painted a couple times already. But then there was that living room ceiling. It was dark with age, wallpapered years ago with a cream-colored paper. There had been roof leaks and moisture damage, so there were ugly splotches here and there. The woodwork hadn't been painted in decades, so it was chipped and sad. It is a gigantic room, and I couldn't decide what to do with it. Our eldest son, a master carpenter, decided that we needed to coffer it. Time, money, and three babies put the quietus on that one. I saved up, though, and bought these awesome reproduction ceiling tiles. Two of my boys popped the lines on the ceiling and threw a few of them up there. That's when I decided I had a deadline. Thanksgiving was in a week and a half. 

So tonight here I sit, turkey and cranberry sauce on my mind, with my house turned upside down. Sure, the tiles are up now (thank you, Daniel son, who put the hammer down on his day off from the fire department). I've got the woodwork and upper wall above the picture rail primed with Kilz....like to have Kild me with the fumes. Tomorrow is Monday and Baby Girl and me are revved up to get painting. Trouble is, we have to caulk around each and every one of those ceiling tiles because Mama didn't think about painting that nasty ceiling before she started, so some of the nastiness shows through the gaps. That's 450 square feet of tile times four sides of each 20" tile. I am not adding that up, no matter what anybody says. 

Pa says he'll do the grocery shopping and help with the cleanup. Meanwhile I don't let that man anywhere near a paintbrush. He puts the paint on too thin and takes too much time. It's so thin, I'd have to paint over it again anyway. I will admit he's very tidy, but I've got a schedule to keep. They say that people get divorced over home renovations, but apparently it works for us. He's got his roles and I've got mine, but his don't involve paint. There's nothing like the smell of freshly-sawn wood and turpentine in the morning. And turkey on Thanksgiving Day.

And did I mention, I sure do like that man in a pair of overalls?