I am still painting.
Hubby has said that if I can get the wall/ceiling line straight, I can keep the 2 blue walls I love. So now that I've painted the walls and trim everywhere else white, I am working on the line.
Picture me, standing on a chair, using a child's art brush taped to a yard stick to paint over my old wobbly line, to straighten it. My eyeballs are square (hence the blogging break).
Hubby walks in, sandwich in one hand, mug in the other.
"Too bad you're short. You know, they have that surgery where they break your legs, and put bone in, and you convalesce for 2 years, and when it's over you're tall."
"Yes, hon, but that is for midgets. I am just short. People in my position, we just marry someone six-foot-two, and let THEM reach high things for us. Plus, we are improving the gene pool, so our children don't have to deal with being short."
"Too bad you married someone tall and lazy."