Caution: Wet Paint and Cranky, Overworked Women

This is a picture of me after spending another day laboring endlessly in the barn. The Berry Queen asked me this morning why we would choose a thirty-one degree day to paint a barn. Oh, you know, ONLY BECAUSE WE LOVE TO PUNISH OURSELVES. Plus, I'm hoping the extra sweat will melt off a few more pounds. Note the abnormally large shoulders. If this stint working with kids doesn't work out, I can always try out for a quarterback in the NFL.



Here you can see the door. Now, I am a fully incompetent person and I am actually incapable of drawing a straight line. But, I did not want the doors to be a boring, solid color. So, I had to employ the hands of my mother in creating these little diamond shapes. I took the picture from afar so that you wouldn't notice all the green paint that I got in the white, and so forth. She stayed with me all through the day making sure that no green was put into white and vice-versa. Thank God she did, or else I'd still be down there a week from now trying to cover up mistakes.



Here you will notice the cieling. A little tuft of my hair is still in it for the sake of memories. (Oh, the memories of balancing eight foot sheets of plywood on your head. While your family laughs at you. How sweet they are.) If you look again at yesterday's pictures, you too will want to pull out your hair by the roots and scream WHY DIDN'T THEY DO THAT TWENTY YEARS AGO?! The answer is, of course... Uhm. We had other shit to do? Ok? Sheesh.



Finally, the interior of the barn. My life's work. My goal for the summer: To make the inside of the barn beautiful. I haven't accomplished nearly as much as I originally wanted to this summer. But my God, its a start.



Hopefully by spring we have appropriate housing for some livestock. Preferably of the variety that grows bacon.

Oh, God, how I love painted barns and bacon.