Scabby Walls

The walls are out to get me.

I’ve patched and sanded and patched and sanded, and the walls in the Buck Creek living room are still rough. I think part of the problem (if not all) is a matter of lingering wallpaper paste. When painted, the rough spots show up as unsightly, dark blotches….sort of like scabs, actually. Last night I wanted to take BIG CRAYONS, and in a fit of almost-rage, just scribble-scribble-scribble my heart out until those spots were covered with wax (red would be quite nice, or maybe purple, but definitely something passionate). But of course I talked myself out of such an outrageous display knowing it would be childish and counter-productive. Not to mention vengeful. Also, I didn’t want poor Fritz to be tempted to send me to a mental ward, or ban me from further wall-work. However, this morning I had to wonder. “But really…ahhhh…why shouldn’t he?!?” Both of those two options sound like a lovely reprieve right now.

My other, more grown-up choice is to sand some more, but the sander-person in me (you know, the cute little painter-guy with the white billed cap) is either on strike or has quit the job completely. He’s just plain GONE. Maybe another choice could be to don the I-don’t-really-care-about-how-this-turns-out hat (that old straw one with the bullet holes left from the time it was a target for the guys during their shoot-out on “rural heritage day”). Or, I could paint the whole mess as-is, and pretend I don’t care. But unfortunately (this is the real bummer) I DO care. Thus far my remodel mind-set has been nothing less than meticulous. I’ve put forth my very best effort, and am doing the work carefully, as if for the Lord. How can I suddenly turn a corner and settle for scabby walls? Shudder. It hurts to imagine such a thing.

On another note, today Fritz sees the cardiologist in Indy for the first time since his good news last October. We’re leaving shortly, and I’m hoping the conversation goes beyond professional/clinical into the realm of Real and Detailed and Transparent. Just for my sake, if not theirs. Maybe the leprous walls will shape up some while we’re gone. Or maybe they’ll collaborate during that time (heh, heh, heh, evil walls that they are) and figure out a way to “wall me in.” (Credits go to Robert Frost for the walling-in image.) I think that’s already happened.