Colour me emotional

Lately, I’ve been painting…

No, nothing artistic, I’m afraid.

Now that the work at Tarzali is almost complete (emphasis on almost – electrician and plumber still have things to do!), we have a lot of bare surfaces that need to be protected with paint.

E was all for hiring a professional painter. He found an ad in the Millaa Millaa Times for a painter with a brilliant name like Heinrich Schicklgruber and he wanted to dine out on stories of Heinrich’s painting prowess. But I was hit by boring scruples and talked about saving…. after all I’m swanning off to San Francisco next month.

I had fuzzy but happy memories of our first home, which we bought here in Townsville just after the destruction of Cyclone Althea.

It was a dooer-upperer, if ever there was one, and we painted and wall-papered and laid tiles happily and inexpertly, thrilled with our first little nest.

This time, E did not join me in my enthusiasm. Nevertheless, I won and we’ve been painting – lovely rich full gloss cream on the French doors to my new office/guest bedroom, lots of clear Estapol on timber walls and door frames, and Sikkens on outside frames exposed to weather. And putty – oh, the “fun” we’ve had with putty – filling a thousand tiny nail holes. Did you know putty comes in all sorts of colours – including pine?

Eventually the dining room will have a rose tinted feature wall and the kitchen will be leafy green. Eventually…

We didn’t get anywhere near finished when we had to come home because I have to prepare my Emotion, Emotion, Emotion presentation for San Francisco…

I know… I could have written it up there, but somehow all those paint smells and the sight of bare walls awaiting my brush blocked my thought processes.

So now I’m back, writing and thinking… in the depths of emotion…