The railings on the front porch have been up for some time. I’ve just been too lazy/too uninspired to get out there and put the final coat of paint on everything.
Until last week.
I made the executive decision to buck up and get something done.
I have a mountain of stuff to work on around here and for 99% of it, I have no idea how I’m going to do it or how I’m going to find the resources to pay someone else to do it.
You know how it is – when you feel like everywhere you look an unfinished project is staring you in the face, it’s easier to run and hide with a bowl of ice cream and Netflix. Or Amazon. Or Pottery Barn. Probably a glass of wine. Maybe a pizza…
Please tell me I’m not the only one who is really good at avoiding things that need to be done by way of food, shopping, or TV.
But I reminded myself that all that little porch needed was paint – and not only do I know how to paint, but I already had the paint. So I painted.
I came home one night after work and painted all the white parts.
Then I came home the next night after work and painted the gray parts.
As I brushed the final stroke of gray paint on that porch floor, it felt so good to knock something off my to-do list.
And just as I was about to give myself a high-five for getting something done…
Just as I was ready to head inside and throw that frozen pizza in the oven…
Just as I was thinking it was time to pour myself that glass of wine…
It hit me.
The back door was locked.
And the front door was blocked by wet paint.
I had about 20 minutes of daylight left and no way was the porch floor going to be dry enough to walk on by then. I considered walking across it and re-painting the next day, but that thought just bummed me out.
Ain’t nothing worse than re-doing something you’ve already done, am I right?
So I hoisted myself up onto the railing from the flower bed, and chucked my shoes into the yard. I guess I figured if I lost my balance my bare feet would do less damage than shoes? And why I had to throw them instead of just leave them in the flower bed, I have no idea. Then I ever so ungracefully swung/clambered my way over the railing so that I was balancing on the inside.
My neighbors must have been shaking their heads.
I hung out here for a bit because I wasn’t really sure how to proceed. My options were quite limited.
As I balanced on the railing with my back to the door, I stretched one leg as far as I could to hit the door latch with my big toe and open the storm door. I probably curse that latch at least once a day because it’s loose and never latches properly – that day I thanked it profusely for not working the way it’s supposed to.
And then, while yelling at Alice to STAY, because she of course had her nose pressed against the glass watching all this go down, I was able to somehow stretch/hop/climb my way into the front door. But not before placing my hand in a very gross and sticky spider web and saying a silent prayer the spider that spun that web (who is the size of a housecat – I’ve seen him) didn’t come out to see who was destroying all his hard work. He didn’t, thankfully – or this story could have had a very different ending.
So let this be a reminder, dear friends: When painting your front porch – please be sure to check that the back door is unlocked first. 😉
P.S. Here’s a quick before, during, and after…
This cute little freshly painted porch is just screaming for mums and pumpkins and cornstalks. Don’t you think?