March 24 – “Tiptoe through the trim work”

Trim painting has officially started.  Well, at least in the back of the house where we have already done the main wall painting.  Like I said yesterday, Chris WILL get the backyard looking good before the baptism party Sunday.  It looks like the trim around the doors and windows will have to have a second coat.  Just didn’t look right.  The hardest part for me, though, has been painting the eaves.  I don’t too well with looking up.  Never had much Michelangelo blood in me, I guess.  Thus far there is ample evidence of my inability to be precise as well.  White bleeding onto blue/gray.  Thankfully I bought a much smaller brush for touch-ups today.  Ah, well, I’ll head back to the salt mines as soon as it gets light enough outside.

I only worked until lunchtime.  Chris called me in for some homemade hash.  Haven’t had that dish in some time.  And after lunch I had to head out to ukulele class.  I had missed the last two, and next Thursday is our big end-of-the-class recital, so I felt compelled to attend.  The recital is open to the public, by the way.  We expect thundering hordes of adoring fans, music lovers all.  I imagine there will be screaming and vying for position near the front of the room so they can hope for a close-up glimpse of one the entertainers.  Wait.  What?  You mean that’s not what happens at recitals?  Sorry.  My bad.  But you are welcome to join whatever silver hairs and family members see fit to support the whimsical doddering of aging uke players.  2:45 next Thursday.  4700 Broadway in the Community Room.  Oh, what kind of music will you be hearing?  Well, that’s a surprise, I suppose.  I will give you one hint about our instructor, though.  As we were leaving he handed us an extra sheet of music.  “This will not be in our recital, but I thought you might want to practice this one a bit for your own edification.”  The song?  Tiptoe Through the Tulips.  I will work on that one.

2 Timothy 2:3 says, “Endure hardship with us like a good soldier of Christ Jesus.”

Father, help us work through our sore muscles to get this painting all done.  Thank you.  Amen.