T went back to work today, and last night when we were admiring the first coat, I realized it might be a long time before the house gets back to order because we are "very busy" all week, and the chances of squeezing in another coat of paint are pretty small. I don't like to nag, so I kept my mouth shut ... but I didn't sleep well worrying about it.
Well, when I came home for lunch, I noticed the smell of latex paint as I walked into the house, and thought that a few things were out of order ('cause the house was so tidy last night when we went to bed -- NOT!) -- but there was a mat that wasn't were it "goes" and some other things that weren't "right", despite the mess of renovations. Then I saw it --
the sign on the stairs :
In case you can't read it it says "Heather, 12 noon upstairs might not be fully dry . BC"
Aren't those the sweetest words you have ever heard? My hardworking father in law, left his day job as a financial whiz at the investment company he owns and pulled on his painting clothes to paint our unending hall -- ALONE (and on a plank -- in one part the walls are about 18 feet high) -- on a very warm day!
How do you thank someone for the gift of painting? I don't know if there are adequate words to express the gratitude! Thanks, Butch! (Edit: I wonder if he would like an autographed copy of a Yarn Harlot book? By the way, only 6 sleeps until She comes to Halifax! I am doubtful that he would enjoy it, but it was a good segue into the Harlot countdown!) *giggle*