Saturday I was working at my computer listening to my husband prepare a bedroom floor right over my head for paint. It got me thinking about all the painting we've done in our 35 years together and I think we deserve some award for surviving it as a couple. Working together is not easy but we've managed to do it and not 
let it destroy our marriage in the process. However, notice I was downstairs at the computer while he was working upstairs...perhaps we've learned to work together by being apart.
Painting together began before we were married. We were planning to rent the tiny house in Amagansett that my husband's grandparents had owned and which his mother and uncle had inherited. The tenants who had moved out had painted every room in that little place a different color, ranging from lavender to yellow, and I was overwhelmed with it. So the first thing we did was paint everything white: two bedrooms, a living room, dining room, and kitchen - all white. They were small rooms so it wasn't an overwhelming job and of course we were excited about moving in to our first place together so it was fun. Only the itsy-bitsy bathroom got some color - an orange and green plaid wallpaper if I remember correctly. (It was the early '70s, mind you!)
From that house we moved to a roomier apartment which we again painted completely. Mostly white and off-white I think. I was too harried with one toddler and another baby on the way to give too much thought to color and decorating. We were in that apartment for two years and it was one of my favorite places we've lived. I remember those years as some of our best. We were a small family, full of the promise of the future. The rooms were much larger than the ones in this house and I loved it there. But it was an upstairs apartment, which wasn't easy with little ones who wanted to play outside, or when coming home with groceries, a baby, and a toddler -and we wanted to own something - so when the opportunity arose we bought our present house.
Again, it needed work. This time we didn't do much before we moved in, but began a slow process of renovations that have taken us up to the present day. The bedrooms have each been painted at least three times in the past thirty years - some more. Downstairs I can think of four colors the living room has been and the bathroom at least that many, although we wallpapered a few times in there too.
All in all I'm tired of painting. Hearing my husband scraping and sanding the bedroom floor for a coat of paint brought back many memories - especially of the pre-latex years when the smell of that oil based paint would just about drive us out of the house for days at a time. The process has gotten easier - no more turpentine to clean brushes with - but its still hard work. And I'm just wondering: when do we get to retire?
let it destroy our marriage in the process. However, notice I was downstairs at the computer while he was working upstairs...perhaps we've learned to work together by being apart.Painting together began before we were married. We were planning to rent the tiny house in Amagansett that my husband's grandparents had owned and which his mother and uncle had inherited. The tenants who had moved out had painted every room in that little place a different color, ranging from lavender to yellow, and I was overwhelmed with it. So the first thing we did was paint everything white: two bedrooms, a living room, dining room, and kitchen - all white. They were small rooms so it wasn't an overwhelming job and of course we were excited about moving in to our first place together so it was fun. Only the itsy-bitsy bathroom got some color - an orange and green plaid wallpaper if I remember correctly. (It was the early '70s, mind you!)
From that house we moved to a roomier apartment which we again painted completely. Mostly white and off-white I think. I was too harried with one toddler and another baby on the way to give too much thought to color and decorating. We were in that apartment for two years and it was one of my favorite places we've lived. I remember those years as some of our best. We were a small family, full of the promise of the future. The rooms were much larger than the ones in this house and I loved it there. But it was an upstairs apartment, which wasn't easy with little ones who wanted to play outside, or when coming home with groceries, a baby, and a toddler -and we wanted to own something - so when the opportunity arose we bought our present house.
Again, it needed work. This time we didn't do much before we moved in, but began a slow process of renovations that have taken us up to the present day. The bedrooms have each been painted at least three times in the past thirty years - some more. Downstairs I can think of four colors the living room has been and the bathroom at least that many, although we wallpapered a few times in there too.
All in all I'm tired of painting. Hearing my husband scraping and sanding the bedroom floor for a coat of paint brought back many memories - especially of the pre-latex years when the smell of that oil based paint would just about drive us out of the house for days at a time. The process has gotten easier - no more turpentine to clean brushes with - but its still hard work. And I'm just wondering: when do we get to retire?
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