It's fence painting weekend!  Actually, now that we've gotten going on it, it's turning into fence painting summer.  There is no way we are going to finish in our allotted three days of painting because we have a LOT of fence and a LOT of distractions like sleepovers, skateparks, feeding ourselves, wine...

I have mentioned a couple times that my house is a whole 644 square feet of wonderful, but that my yard is, relatively speaking, a good size.  It's a 175 feet deep.  It was established at a time when people were expected to have a home, a garden and an outhouse.  I joke that we bought a yard with a shack on it, which is funny, until it's time to upkeep the fence that circles the perimeter.  Not so funny anymore. 

I have a curious relationship to yard work.  In general, I like the outdoors, especially when it's on the other side of the glass, peered at overtop of the edge of my book.  I'm not a fan of actually being outdoors, in the sun, for hours, because I'm a vampire.  But I have very few jobs in my life where I can see an actual end result like yard work present.  Weeding the garden looks good (especially since I let it go so long).  So does mowing the lawn.  So many inside things that must be done but never actually look done or are, in fact, Done.  You only know that they are done by when they aren't done, because nobody notices that it gets done until you fail to do it.  I'm looking at you, laundry.

So, though I must spend time outdoors, doing work jobs, painting is something with appreciable results and a definite end.   At least I hope so.  We haven't made nearly the progress we've hoped for.  And the second coat will probably be much less satisfying since painting white on white is not quite the same impressive looking progress.  But, if I work at, every day, over the next week-

This is probably never going to be done, is it?

It doesn't help that I paint like I'm trying to bludgeon the fence to death.  It's tough on the arms and I have yet to subdue little more than half the beast.

I was trying to look at a bright side to all this but failing a little bit.  Thus, instead of trying to derive satisfaction from a job well done, I'm going to find another angle.  Like, look, the trees are gorgeous!

Yay, cherries!  Good stuff I have to work not at all to get!  Also, they look nice with my white fence and undead complexion.

And there is, indeed, an end in sight, when it gets too dark to work, so I may sling inside and read my book.

The book, by the way, is Shrill by Lindy West, which I am enjoying very much. The book mark is by Boy Child, and it is part of his design to attach a full set of deer antlers to his head to wear to the medieval faire this summer.  Not only is he a great artist, he is also a snappy dresser.

So here's to the end of another day of painting and getting things done, slowly and painfully.  I am sure, sometime around August, when the fence is fully painted, it will look very nice and I will bask in satisfaction of a job well bludgeoned.

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