Anyone getting tired of hearing about paint yet?
Because, you know, I sure am.
We had an incident earlier, in which we lost track of Carlie, and all of a sudden, she was standing in the paint tin, knee-deep in Behr's Toffee Crunch. I didn't manage to get a picture (Steven hollered, and I grabbed her and ran straight to the utility sink), but here's what she's been doing ever since -- napping by the paint cans. We think she might have been an artist in a former life... she just really, really wants to be near that paint.
Meanwhile, Pringles has been nervously monitoring our progress.
He had his own paint incident, where he backed his little tush into a freshly painted wall, but it turned out alright. I figure his rear end is already sort of toffee-colored, so I'm just leaving it there until his next haircut.
He is, however, slightly offended that we aren't letting him go to the Inauguration. I told him it was too crowded for a five-pound dog, but he's still pouting.
I have no idea what traffic will be like tomorrow. It will either be totally insane or there will be no one on the roads. There's supposed to be at least 2 million people in DC tomorrow. (And one porta-potty for every 5,000 persons. God help them all.)
After a brief break for the latest Inauguration coverage, it was back to work for your humble correspondent.
After a while, the original pink colors start to play tricks on your eyes, and you find yourself painting over the same spot five times, just to be sure.
I am pleased to report that we are finished with the front sitting room and the kitchen, and the only remaining spots to paint are the upper borders of the dining room. I couldn't bring myself to climb up the ladder anymore tonight, and plus, 24 was about to come on. :)
I bet Jack Bauer never has to paint dining rooms. He makes Chloe do it, at an unreasonable rate of speed. ("Chloe! We don't have time!)
(As you can see, Pringles has now found the other warm spot in the house. They are not cold-weather dogs, apparently.)