As much as I love this time of year, it is also a very busy time of year. Now is the time to close down the pool and tackle all those maintenance chores before winter weather sets in and prevents me from doing them. When I lay my head down on my pillow at night, I know I have earned the sleep.
I painted the big sign that proclaims us to have a camp store with bait, ice and propane in the spring. I slathered two coats of my favorite yellow green paint on. It was peeling and fading. I could still see the faint outline of my lettering and knew I would not have to drag out all the equipment to re-letter it. Before I knew it, the pool was open and I ran out of time to get the sign done. The conditions need to be just right to paint the letters. I use oil paint. If it is too windy, little droplets will blow from the brush and plop where ever they will. If you try to wipe it, the black paint smears and makes an even bigger mess. If it is too damp, the paint won't stick. And if the sun is shining on it, the paint will run.
This morning I awoke to optimal conditions to get this one task done. I got the ladder in place and climbed up with my brush in my mouth and the paint can in my hand. All set. I figure I have just enough time to get the letters painted so the paint can st before the sun hits the sign. I get two letters done before the phone rings. I ignore it, but it niggles away at the back of my mind. What if it was a reservation? What if it was one of my children and they need me? I paint all the letters I can reach from the ladder in its current position and decide to go check the call and grab a bottle of water. It was a telemarketer.
I finish that side of the sign and reposition the ladder. I am in a painting zone now. You know what I mean. You have the feel for the brush and the amount of paint to put on, the swirl is just right to create that letter. I am painting on plywood and the surface is not exactly smooth. You have to get a feel for it, or you can easily go way beyond the line you are trying to follow. So, there I am, three rungs high, knees locked in place as I lean into the letter that is at the outer edge of my reach. I hear a vehicle coming down the drive. It is the man who puts the brochures in the store. I don't need any. He calls out that I am doing a good job and I call out that I am not open ......... meaning that I have no intention of getting off my high horse and opening the store just for him to determine that I have no need of his service. He answers that he will wait. What? He drives up to the store and I have to get down and go to the store and explain to him that I am trying to complete a task and am not opening until I am done. Finally he gets it and I am able to mount the ladder once again. Precious time is slipping away and I can feel the sun on the back of my calves. Can't hurry, though, any mistake would be a pain to fix.
So, I am finally back on task, but, not in my zone. It is just not flowing along. A motor home pulls in. He pulls up to the LP pump. He who mows is doing just that. He is mowing the front field, so he saw said motor home come in and he knows the man. Did he stop his task of sitting upon a mower and drive up to assist the man? NO! Once again I come down to earth and walk around to the man to tell him that we are waiting for our delivery of propane. This is when he who dawdles decides to come flying up on his mower.
Now when I climb back up, the sun is bearing down on me and my legs and as I paint the last letters, the paint is beginning to run. I am not at all happy, knowing that I have a big touch up job in my future. It did not help that he who stopped mowing to look at my sign told me it looked good from a distance. Sometimes one should just not speak. Really.
Then , as I am about the business of trying to get the paint off my person, the truck comes in to empty the dumpster. He lifts it, not having secured it properly and drops it on its side. I got into the shower. I figured it would be better if I did not see how much damage he did .......... the sign I just painted being right behind it. Fortunately for him, he did not knock my sign or my fence down and he picked up all the bags of garbage he dropped. I will let him live .....
I decide it is pointless to try to get anything else done before my appointment to get my hair cut, so I just leave. I am in hopes that a change of scenery will lighten my mood. It didn't help much. The battery died in my key fob to my car. Not a small annoyance when your arms are full and you try to unlock the trunk. I am not sure who Murphy is ..... but I have had enough for one day. The backs of my legs are sunburned and the sign looks sloppy.