Painting, Raging Pupsters and A New Book

Here you see a calm and resting Charlie Ross. Now watch this transformation...

I call out to him, and he turns in my direction, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

Uh-oh. They hear or smell something amiss outside. Abi is sniffing at the door. Charlie is ready to go.

And suddenly a big gray cat walks across the small porch. 

CAT!!!

Charlie is throbbing. Abi has lost interest. Cat alert!

The cat is gone now. Phew. If only that cat knew how much Charlie wanted at it. 

This was our overcast and rainy Monday. It rained and rained and rained. And then rained some more.

I have one coat of paint on the bathroom walls. Well, mostly. I'm having a devil of a time trying to figure out how to get down to paint behind the toilet with this ankle. 

It just kills me to bend my knees and bend down like that. 

But alas, the white paint is much too white. 

The maintenance guy was supposed to bring me a little paint they're using on the walls now. But he hasn't done it yet. 

This white paint looked fine on the lower half of the dining room walls. But in the bathroom, there are no windows, so it looks like glaring snow.

That would be fine. Except the bathtub tile is this odd white color with little specks of brown. So in effect, it just looks dirty against the white painted walls. 

Geez Louise. Back to the drawing board. I told Kenny, the maintenance guy, that I tried to stand on the edge of the bath tub and reach up to paint to the ceiling. But I'm not tall enough. 

Picture me, standing on the edge of the tub and holding onto the opposite wall of the bath tub while I lean over and try to reach those top spots. It was kind of scary.

But there's not enough room in the tub for a step ladder. I can't tell you how many times I dropped the paint brush.

He said he would finish it off, whenever I get a different coat of white on there. 

***

Many have mentioned that I am very lucky to be able to make all these changes. Well, up until now, I haven't done anything that couldn't be put back the way it was. But the bathroom will be a permanent change. 

I do feel fortunate that I can make this space my own. I would never be happy restricted like some renters are because I do love to change things up. 

***

The FedEx guy just brought a new Harper Collins book for me to read and review. It is "This Is Not Over." Sounds rather ominous, doesn't it? 

This from Amazon.com:

Two very different women with this in common: Each harbors her own secret, her own reason why she can’t just let this go. 

Neither can yield, not before they’ve dredged up all that’s hidden, even if it has the power to shatter all they’ve built.

This is not over.

This is so not over.