Tights, M16s, and Paint

Like some twisted list of items carried in the pocket of a schizophrenic, my weekend was a jumble of random, disparate activities, woven together with some strange unifying cord. When looking back at the actions you take over the course of a weekend, think about the separate elements sometimes, and how little those elements may seem to mesh. Truly, the breadth of the human experience is vast and diverse. Still, despite the apparent lack of connection between the nouns in the title of this particular post, they behave like a row of dominoes, back to front, each inexorably leading to the other.

My wife and I had decided this weekend, that we would finish my room. The color pattern started as being a deep blue with a hint of grey color, and marching around the room at chest height was a beige stripe about 16 inches thick. The difficult with this particular task when we first did was the orange peel texture of the walls. It created a hurdle for which we had no legs to jump. That hurdle was a crisp line. No matter how hard I pressed tape down, or how steady my hand, there was always a bleed through. Thankfully, with the coming of our daughter, an ingenious friend of my wife helped to paint stripes on the baby’s room with a clever technique I will not bore you with. So, we revisited my game room using this device to not only crispen up the beige line, but to add a much thinner deep red stripe in the bottom half of the first stripe. This task ate up a surprising amount of time. I did the taping, my wife the painting.

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