Ah, the familiar notes of paint fumes.
I had a couple things to do in the morning, but once I had put them away, I decided to knock off one of the summer tasks I have. Well, half knock it off, and good enough for now. So, I moved the wood and other random junk stacked against the wall in the garage, killed about 400 spiders, swept, and then grabbed the tin of paint.
We started renovating some six years ago, and there is inevitably a lot of left over bits and pieces, including a couple large cans of base paint. When I painted the basement just after moving in, I only used base paint in a few layers, and it came up really well. And since this is the garage, it'll do.
I opened the first tin and after sitting for so long, it had of course separated, with the paint falling to the bottom, the thinner (or whatever it is) on top. This was expected and I was prepared for this. What I wasn't prepared for was the paint hadn't just settled, it had turned into wet cement. After trying to break it up with a stick, I found my old hammer drill and a paint mixer attachment thing, and got to work.
It wasn't easy.
And I made a mess. My old drill is also unlikely to thank me. However, it was mixed enough (still with a heap of paint I couldn't break up) to have around half a can.
It wasn't enough.
Groot wasn't impressed either.
I had a few square metres left to paint, so I had to open up the second can. I was not looking forward to the experience of mixing again, because when I did the first it was very messy. And it got even more so because I haven't used this drill for many years and am used to my DeWalt, when I picked it up to start mixing again, I accidentally pulled the trigger and flicked paint all over myself.
Didn't need that shirt anyway...
Cracking the lid of the second can, I looked at the familiar separation and then plunged my stick in to start breaking up the mass. But to my thankful surprise, this was the way it should be, so with a quick blend, it was good to go. I finished painting, put the wood back in place, cleaned off my "work table" and threw away a bit of trash.
As said above, I only half did the job today, because I want to do the same behind the shelving, but that requires a lot more moving around of heavy stuff, and I didn't have that in me today. What was interesting is that in the three or four hours it took me, I almost did my 10,000 steps. Even with the bending, my legs and back are fine - but my hands are sore.
They know longer know or appreciate manual labour.
Yes, this was a pointless task on my list, but it was one I have wanted to do for a long time because the grey concrete, stained by 60 years of use, oil burning heating and whatnot, was pretty depressing. It is now brighter and lighter, and looks a little fresher than the drab it was.
And since we aren't able to do the basement properly yet, another task on the list is to seal the basement floor with a concrete paint, so it is more usable. At the moment, it is impossible to go down there barefoot due to the crumbling dust, but it is also where our laundry is. While I would like to, I am not sure I will do the garage floor this year though.
Not overly hard work, though it did take some effort. But the best thing about this kind of task is that the before and after difference is clear. The accomplishment is seen immediately, and that feels good.
Instant gratification.
Taraz
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