Wisdom of experience. Prepare carefully. Aren’t you smart.
Move furniture away from walls. Pack tchokes and photos from mantlepiece into big plastic box.
Roll up large rug. Favorite thing. First thing we bought together, when we first moved in and had some money. Must not drip on that.
Place Angelic Daughter’s sculptures on or next to couch, along with The Ancestress Chair.
Cover all with huge drop cloth. Smile. So smart to invest in that.
Remove Angelic Daughter’s paintings, and all other framed stuff, from walls. Place in next room.
Next, tape floor. Wisdom of experience. Floor protected with two inches of frog tape against base of wall.
Tape perimeter of windows, anticipating painting trim. Smile. Exceptional forethought. Pat yourself on the back. You’re getting really good at this.
Place six feet of three-foot wide plastic along floor below first section of ceiling to be painted.
Do the edges first, all around, three inch roller.
Excellent forethought once again. Do all the up-on-the-stepstool stuff first, while fresh.
Place can of ceiling paint left over from last time on plastic. Open.
Rust falls into paint. How did that new can rust so fast? Eh. Stir it around, find it, pick it out.
Place ladder on top of plastic.
Hmm. Slips a little. Resolve to go slowly and be careful.
Soak three inch roller in ceiling paint until it drips. Ha! No two coats this time!
Discover that safely ascending stepstool whilst (HA! “whilst!”) carrying small paint tray and roller is a feat of derring-do. Remind self, “don’t fall, don’t fall.”
You don’t fall. Yay you.
Raise paint-soaked roller to position at edge of ceiling. Roll, baby, roll.
Smile. This no-two-coats-paint-soaked-roller thing is working well! Remind self to use same method with long pole attachment for remainder of ceiling in this, the largest room in the house.
Section by section, move plastic around perimeter of room. Soak, roll.
Complete perimeter of ceiling.
Notice that two inches of frog tape is not, apparently, enough width to protect floor from drips when raising paint-soaked roller.
Eh. Came off easily last time. Continue.
Attach long pole extension to 6 inch roller. Drag plastic to center of room, next to drop cloth. Pour paint into large tray with liner.
Wide river of paint runs down can when replaced on plastic, creating small puddle.
Don’t step in that.
Immediately step in that whilst (!) wrangling roller on long pole into tray to soak in paint.
Notice this only when returning to plastic to re-soak roller after completing first section of ceiling interior.
Footprints, tracking across expensively sanded, refinished floors.
Eh, came off easily last time. Resolve to get this sucker done without regard to drips. Horse has left barn. Ship has sailed.
Because, no two damn coats, not this time.
Whilst (!) circumnavigating room with long pole topped by paint-soaked roller, around treasures that must not be dripped on under huge drop cloth, kick hidden base of Angelic Daughter’s largest sculpture.
Resolve to repair already once-repaired masterpiece, when paint job is over.
Notice that hoisting paint-soaked roller on long stick and applying force while rolling back and forth is great exercise! Sweating! This counts as workout!
Breathing hard! Yay you!
When paint from soaked roller drips onto lips rather than into open, breathing-hard mouth, resolve to react with gratitude. Didn’t go into mouth. Also grateful for reminder that you are not a mouth breather, dammit (except when singing.)
Close mouth. Don’t sing.
Complete interior of huge ceiling.
Step back (into another paint splatter). Regard ceiling.
One-coat job gives new meaning to the words, “missed a spot.”
Re-soak roller, now stiffening with semi-dried paint.
Re-apply to missed spots.
Paint goes on lavender, dries white.
Decide that missed spots are just not-dry-yet spots.
Lunchtime! Angelic Daughter has waited patiently all morning, in the next room, when the front room is the one she likes to sit in best.
Anticipating need for further touch ups, drive to grocery salad bar in paint clothes.
See shoppers recoil.
Don’t worry, Angelic Daughter serves up her own soup and salad.
Pay. Return home. Check that all paint has been removed from lips.
Eat lunch with Angelic Daughter, who deserves much more of your time.
Ceiling dried, missed spots remedied.
Brings new meaning to, “cleans up easily with soap and water.”
Scrub, rub, lather, rinse, repeat.
Smile. Ceiling and workout, done. Two birds.
Observe floor of front room.
Footprints. Splatter. Streaks.
Sigh. Came off easily last time.
But last time was an eighth this size, and “cleans up easily with soap and water.” Not water. Wood floor cleaner.
Eh. Do walls tomorrow and worry about floor later. Don’t worry today about worries you can worry about tomorrow.
Until then, I remain,
12 thoughts on “How Not To Paint A Room: Front Room Ceiling”
Yay you, indeed, many times over. Enjoy finished product!!!
Thanks, I will! Because, one thing leads to another — love the paint but the drapes turned wrong, so just hung new ones (cheap but pretty floral sheets bought on credit but hey, the card gives me an instant 5% off!) and they look great! Next “how not to” will explain why, exactly, the curtains that were there are there no longer…😂
I loved this. I’ve never painted a room and not thought, “This’ll be so easy!” BEFORE I started working on it. Then by the end of the day, I want to just burn the whole house down and never look back.
😂 so true!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Trying not to laugh. Not succeeding.
Good! Glad to know I got a giggle out of you. After all, I was trying to paint carefully, and clearly not succeeding!😂😆
LikeLiked by 1 person
Delightfully written, and oh so sadly true!
LikeLiked by 1 person