May Weekend

 

                It was That Weekend in May. The sun came out after long cold weeks of rain. The grass was long and lush; all of the starts in the greenhouse were bursting in their pots; the spring bulbs were all dying back; the ground is still damp. There was a lot of work to be done. Since Thursday, we have:

1.       Moved the table and benches out.

2.       Taken off the storm windows and stored them in the basement were the windows were.

3.       Mowed the entire yard.

4.       Tracked in a lot of grass clippings.

5.       Trimmed out ¾ of the garden beds.

6.       Cleaned up the front garden of dying bulb foliage—entire garbage can of compost.

7.       Weeded both wheelbarrows of strawberries.

8.       Watered pots.

9.       Prepped, planted, laid down hoses, and attached rabbit fencing for four beds: the summer greens, summer roots, and two beds of tomatoes.

10.   Bumped up extra summer starts.

11.   Given away more tomatoes. (There are still a few left…)

12.   Walked to the market downtown.

13.   Prepared the summer shower.

14.   Cleaned the house.

15.   Did several loads of laundry.

16.   Moved the chickens off of the garden beds and into Summer Quarters, which involves trimming out the fences and clearing the space for the coop to rest.

17.   Brought out the chairs.

18.   Went on a wildflower walk and identified 55 species of flowers in bloom.

19.   Ate my Aunty Marilyn’s macaroni salad for dinner.

Monday, which is a full day of teaching, followed by a staff meeting, dinner, and Budget Commission meeting, should be a breeze in comparison.

 

Painting the Stairwell

 

The basement floor needs to be painted. It was rough when we moved in 25 years ago. Wear and water have made it worse. This summer, I told myself. It’s a big project; lots of stuff needs to be moved, cleaned, cleared out, replaced. Then we had a bout of Revenge Poop at the base of the stairs, and I bought a gallon of grey floor paint. I’ll just paint that small area, I thought. It will keep nasty scents from seeping into the bare cement floor. I cleared away the gallons of house paint and brooms, crowbars, and other tools stashed in the area, washed the floor, and painted. An improvement.

Project creep set in. Maybe I needed to paint the landing, too. That had also seen an occasional “accident” from the cat, which was mad that we were latching her in at night because a bear was wandering through town. After all, I already had the stairs blocked off so that the cat or one of us could not wander down accidently. I washed the landing. Then there were the stairs. They were also rough. And the gate was already up, I was wearing my painting clothes, the brush would need to be washed no matter how big the project….A good coat of paint goes a long way in improving a space.

This morning, I laid down a second coat of paint at the bottom of the steps, and then worked my way up. It’s not easy to paint up stairs—but there’s only one way out of a basement, so there I was, awkwardly perched two boards above the one I was painting. Each time I shifted positions, it looked better. Cared for. Cleaner. Warmer because it’s actually a nice shade of grey paint. As I worked, I thought about other spaces that could use a coat of paint. I was in a Portland restaurant yesterday that I remember as being a bit upscale, over on Hawthorne. It felt battered; there were old table scars on the walls and the bathroom drain screen was loose and rattling around the floor. The place could have used a coat of paint. All of Hawthorne, actually, could use a coat of paint. Like my basement, it has been hard used for 30 years and needs a bit of TLC.

Half an hour later, the first coat was down. I’ll need to come back for the second round and I will wait a few days before I move the furniture and tools back into place, but it looks good. So good that the walls and railing are now appearing a bit battered. But that is a job for this summer.