The wintry weekend was the perfect opportunity to finish my wall covering project,
where "finish" meant nailing on the 82.75 feet of trim.
No way would I have found the ambition to stay inside for this torture had the sun been shining.
The nail spacer tool seemed like such a good idea when I bought it,
but I couldn't make it work on the vertical surfaces – the nails kept falling out.
So I used it to mark the trim where the nails were supposed to go, which proved just as useful.
I did the green wall first, kneeling, bending over, lying on the floor, standing on my head...
Nothing seemed to make the job easier.
By the time I got to the beige wall, I figured out that if I pushed the nails through the trim first,
it was a helluva lot easier to pound them in without stabbing myself and/or smashing my fingers.
Six hours and 879 nails later, I was done.
(Note to self: dust baseboards before shooting close-ups)
Smooch: Now can we go for a walk?
Me: As soon as I can stand upright again.
Someone asked recently how I got Smooch to pose for my pictures.
If she knows there's a cookie in my hand, she will usually sit still until I give it to her.
Me: Nuh-uh-uh...not yet.
Me: We'll get done sooner if you put your tongue back where it belongs.
When her eyes glaze over and she won't make eye contact, I know she's had enough
and then she gets a cookie...or two or three.