paint paint paint

I'm taking a paint break. I'm covered in ash white speckles.

We're trying to decide whether to leave the ceiling pink (burnt rose) or not. We're leaving the bottom half of the walls pink for now, but we may eventually decide to paint that area a deep jade green. If we do that, we may want to repaint the ceiling . . .

Or we may have an urchin who adores pink, much to my dismay. Perhaps I should just leave it for now. We can always paint it later.

Boy's decided he likes the contrasting ceiling, so he's in there taping the edge. I'll go in and add the brushed line/edge in a few. Right now, I'm steeping some tea for iced tea.

For some reason, trimwork is for women. I don't know why. Are we more anal? Smaller hands? Eye for detail? My mom often painted the trim (of course, she did LOTS of the home reno stuff). Then again, boy is the artistic, detailed one in our relationship . . . yet I always end up doing the trim. And my dad is amazing with detailwork of various sorts. Very weird.

If I didn't have the slightest tremor left to my hands, I could handle the edge without a taped line. But I still have the tiniest tremor left and the more I hold still, the more evident it is. It's nowhere near as bad as it was before I went GF, back in the days of major spasms and kicks and jolts, but it's still there. I guess nerves take time to heal up. I'm just glad that I can handle the edge at all--there was a time when I'd have ended up with paint five inches away from the spot I was attempting to touch up.

I'm irritated with Lowe's--they didn't have either of the borders we were contemplating using. Well, they claimed to have them, but their stock/organization is abysmal.

Tea's steeped. I'll add ice. Time to get back to work. I have two doors to paint and a ceiling edge to attend to.