Tuesday ramble

I talked to mom last night, briefly (she was fielding other birthday calls and awaiting birthday guests). I thought about how good it felt--what a weight lifted--to not resent her. It was one of those places that I'd long wanted to get to, but I couldn't wish myself there. Still, I worked on it and continued to choose it, and eventually, we got there.

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I started out the morning with one of my favorite things in the world--a bike ride to Mt. Vernon--and ended the morning with two of my least favorite things: driving in northern Virginia and Michael's. I made it worse by choosing the Michael's in Seven Corners, since I had to return something to the REI nearby and figured it wouldn't be much longer, but it was pure hell, even in the middle of a weekday. Perhaps because it was such hell to get there, I stayed and circled even after I didn't see anything close to the frame I needed. Miraculously, just as I was about to give up, I found the perfect frame in the form of a t-shirt display box (who knew?), and left to get paint.

The bathrooms are painted; the upstairs one was a breeze--most of it could be done with rollers, and it was even fun. The only damper on the fun was that the ceiling wouldn't take any painter's tape (I tried four varieties, but it was just too slick), so I had to do that with a brush (no, I didn't think to buy a foamy thing, although I probably could have found one somewhere) and there's some spillover onto the ceiling. Not a lot, but enough that it's not a clean line. But who looks up at the ceiling, anyway? The upstairs bathroom is very orange, much more so than "tango" looks on the swatch.

Can I go back to work now? I'm going to prune the roses... then can I go back to work?