It’s autumn, and once again I am watching men try to keep our house from disintegrating. Windowsills are spongy and members of the fungal dry-rot community are bullish and gearing up for what they believe will be another stellar season. Not much is required of me; in fact, the process puts me in a meditative state. I just stand by and watch, periodically flipping over a hundred-dollar bill from a stack.
This October, as the sun slid closer to the southern horizon, I got the bright notion that I could spend a portion of our last sunny days being proactive. I’m hoping to put off house-painting for another few years. The porch railings and posts have lost paint here and there and look a little poxed. It wouldn’t be a big deal to sand them up and throw a little primer on and caulk and repaint before it starts raining for the next eight months. Maybe I’ll have a look at some of the 115-year-old windowsills while I’m at it. That’s what a responsible adult would do. I‘m not one of those, but I got right on it anyway.
I hauled out my scraper. My porch railings surrendered their paint a little too willingly, in great galloping strips. The joints needed caulk. Here and there I ran into some more spongy bits I could sink a screwdriver into. I started digging. The sun continued to tip south. My sand-and-paint project was developing dramatically. Excavation! Wood hardener! Bondo! Actually, the posts should probably be replaced. Oh look! Birds!
I checked the miracle weather app. The weather app is utterly remarkable. It can tell you that rain is going to begin a week from next Tuesday at three pm, and at three pm a week from next Tuesday, sure enough, plink. Plink plink. Plup plup plup. You can time a soufflé with that thing.
According to the app, there are plenty of sunny days left. This is doable. Except then the sunny days started out dewy and never quite heated up enough to dry out all the wood I had exposed. Maybe tomorrow? After the requisite three trips to the hardware store—trips to the hardware store are like potato chips–I had the materials to do a really fine job, but not the confidence or the climate.
There was a sunny day coming up but the temperature was dipping into don’t-paint territory. And now I had a house dimpled with divots I made myself, all ready to turn into ponds you could host a tadpole in.
Can’t paint until I prime. Can’t prime until I scrape. Can’t caulk until I prime. Can’t fill holes until I watch a video about mixing two-part wood epoxy. Can’t mix two-part wood epoxy until I drench the holes with wood hardener. Things were spinning out of control and the calendar was careening toward November like a drunk driver heading for a bridge abutment.
And then, miracle! One morning dawned in the low fifties, on its way to a mid-fifties high, with no dew! I checked my miracle app. It wasn’t going to begin raining until 2pm! My wood looked dry! At least I could slap on some primer! Primer is dry to the touch in 30 minutes, paintable in an hour! Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!
I changed into grubbies and got out my brush and primer and commenced slapping at 11am.
It is said that people complain about the weather but nobody does anything about it. Maybe they think you can’t do anything about it. I am here to say Yes, yes you can. A hurricane-producing butterfly flapping its wings has nothing on a girl with an open can of primer.
11:05 sharp, plink. Plink plink. Plup plup plup.
New plan: get out the plastic and duct tape, half-ass everything just well enough to make it through the winter, then do it all properly in the spring, when there will be plenty of time, and the days will warm up, and nothing will stop me. Oh look! Birds!
One of the best things we did when we moved into our house was replace all the windows with the ones that tilt in to clean. All the outside wood is covered with white aluminum, so we don’t have to paint. The soffits were already covered, thank goodness. It was pricey, but well worth it, as there are no more screens to take out and replace with storm windows, and one doesn’t have to go outside to clean the outside windows. The whole screen/storm window thing was a pain in the ass, not only because they had to be stored in the attic, but they had to be marked with which window they were for. We have an old house, too, and each window is a slightly different size. I have to commend the window installers for the fine job they did, considering they couldn’t take for granted that the diningroom windows were the same size, even though they looked it.
Most of my windows (and all the ones on the upper floors) tilt out/in for cleaning, but do I clean them? Not so much. And we don’t use screens or storm windows, although all the aforementioned windows are double-paned, so that helps.
Well, yeah, ours are double-paned, too. But our old ones (probably from the original windows on the house) (were one-ply, so to speak, and you had to exchange them for the screens in the summer. We NEED screens here in Delaware, because, as everyone around her knows, the state bird is the mosquito. I get enough bites in me when I take three minutes to take out the trash. I think that I might prefer vampires, because although they drink blood, at least there is the sexual aspect of it all.
We’re discussing having the kitchen, breakfast room, and side entry hall repainted. Spouse suggests we can do it ourselves. Then suggests it will probably kill him to have to crouch on the floor to get the baseboards done. Also it will take a few weeks, whereas the painters could do it in a few days.
I remind him of a saying one of his electricians oft spoke: “Sure, do it yourself. It only costs a little bit more.”
I like supporting the local economy by hiring professionals!
Susan, I advise you to read Julie Zickfoose’s blog about her greenhouse . It was a DIY project the first time and was an epic fail. THIS time, she spent more, but got it done right. And, y’know… I have never hired a painter. Always did it myself, because, how hard can it be? But now that I am older, I would do it differently. For one thing, I have shortened by 2 inches, so even on a stepladder, I cannot reach things. I cannot move things, so I can’t get behind furniture. The last time I did any painting will be the last time I DO any painting. I ragged the wall in several shades, so that it looks like parchment, because I saw it in a restaurant, looked it up on YouTube, and did it. Thank goodness I did. It will be the last time I paint. And since it already looks old, it doesn’t matter. My walls are bumpy. Two years ago, I painted the trim, but now all I can manage is touch-ups. Always hire people who are professionals! It costs less in the long run!
I actually like painting. I’m pretty good at it, too. There’s something so satisfying about seeing it come together all new and pretty. And I’m virtually useless in most construction/repair things so I feel kind of pumped about painting. INDOORS. I am not climbing on that tower. Susan, I’ll paint your rooms!
Actually, several years after we moved in, I still didn’t do anything to the diningroom (which was originally my mom’s bedroom.) Finally, I decided to use a textured paint that resembled stucco, as I had a LOT of plaster casts from my uncles to hang on the walls. And it was a LOT of fun! Probably the most fun I ever had painting! If I had known how much fun it would be, I would have done ALL my walls with stucco paint, and never have had to do it again! It looks GREAT… I had fun… and it’s enduring!
Better than plaster casts OF your uncles, I guess. You know, depending.
I feel your pain as an owner of a home built in 1912. I solved the problem you describe so well by hiring a firm, ‘Painted to Last’, for a small fortune and a written guarantee for 10 years!! I’ll probably be dead before the guarantee expires…
I’m looking for 25-year paint. Still looking.
What a pretty house. 🤗
Thanks! Drap on by!
I know your pain(t) up close and personal—I didn’t get the call, heard about something brewing, but left town for Ireland instead. Before that trip I gifted 50 hours of prep and exterior painting to my daughter and her all thumbs boyfriend (a mechanical engineer !) for her recent birthday gift. I’m billing them for the paint.
I’ll be needing a good painter who does killer prep. My birthday is in September.
I know that you know the best time to get all of this done is/was during the dry summer months, so I won’t point that out to you, but instead wish you luck on getting it done in time. Perhaps you could hire a few teams of scraper/caulker/primer/paint people?
I think I have ‘er buttoned up good enough for the winter now. In the nick of time. And it’s been raining torrents since then.
I got two coats of paint on my house this year. A co-volunteer noted that her husband hired someone a few years ago to paint way up high on their old two-story house. A few years later, they discovered the upstairs windows were painted shut. But I did like his idea of just painting one side of the house every year. It took way too long for me to paint my little house, but it’s good to be busy and I’m glad I can still do some things myself.
I actually like painting but I ain’t getting up on that tower!