Monday, February 23, 2009

Purple Rain..





A decidedly 'unglamorous" weekend for me, as evidenced in the picture. After a fun Friday night including dinner at J.Baldwin where I chanced upon some of my 'gym buds" (Mr. Bill and Kathy rock!) and then to Luciano's for nightcaps, it was all work. All day Saturday and all day Sunday was spent painting my foyer. It's now a lovely shade called 'sapphire' and looks good to go, say, if Prince wants to do a sleepover anytime soon. (I wish!)




Now brings to mind a story that makes me smile. I get my love of painting honest. As a child, my Mom painted our house so often that people used to kid my Dad about losing square footage to paint depth. It would start something like this. Mom would glance around and inevitably say, "Gee, bet this living room would good just one shade darker." Dad would then inevitable say, "looks fine to me and didn't you just do it 6 months ago?" End of subject. Us kids would exchange knowing glances. The next day a secret trip would be made to the local hardware by my Mom with her three little accomplices in tow. All necessary supplies would be procured and we would take the 'zip it' oath. See, my Dad wasn't some kind of control freak or tyrant about painting, but my Mom just happened to like to paint and derived the same freakish pleasure from it that I do today. Dad didn't REALLY mind as long as he didn't have to be involved. And we all know that he didn't REALLY need to know everything anyway--what man does?



Then, the next day at 7:40 when my Dad was still backing out of the driveway on his way to work, the fun began. The 'pajama brigade' would be summoned for service. "Hurry kids, help me push this furniture to the middle of the room." We would shove and arrange till everything was in place. Our job done, we were free to breakfast and get on with our day. Meanwhile, Mom furiously rolled on the first coat and then made us our lunch. Dinner would also be started. Shortly afterward the first coat would be dry enough for her to proceed with round two. By late afternoon we were called again to do our duty--this time in reverse. The room would look great but definitely smell of fresh paint.



At 5:15 my poor, unsuspecting Dad would roll in all tired from work. The house would reek of garlic as Mom was sure to have prepared the most garlicky lasagna and bread known to man. "Man, it smells good in here," Dad would remark as Mom handed him a nice, big Manhattan. The three musketeers would again exchange conspiratorial glances. Tucking into dinner, my Dad would ask my Mom what she had did that day. And of course she would say "nuthin' special." We would collapse in fits of giggles. Dad would give us a chance to say clever things like, "we played in the living room" or "just moved some stuff around" etc. Mom would pop an eyebrow at the comedians and say, "just get to your supper, kids."



Afterwards, Dad would retire to the room in question with the Alpena Snoozepaper and a fresh Manhattan. Sniffing the air suspiciously, He would settle in to relax. We would hang around just to see if he would notice anything. Bored quickly of waiting, we would head outside to play. And Mom would have pulled off another painting coup.


XOXO to my family.

12 comments:

Gary G said...

Is that scaffolding I see in the background?!?!?!

Charles Gramlich said...

I guess it's all in what you like, but man I can think of many things I'd rather do than pain.

the walking man said...

Your father knew, we men always know but a part of our training in husbanding is to also know when to just shut the hell up.

But kudos to your mom, for not making him work at what he didn't particularly like doing.

This was a fine and well written little memoir too Jodi!

Anonymous said...

yes its scafolding in the backgroung, you never mentioned your FOYER is taller than most churches in my area. its funny how ones memory works. i can remember mom painting a lot, but never the hardware. must be the braincells i killed in my youth. i need to drop a hint or two, my little dump could use a coat or two. i can only imagine the pleasure derived from painting my house. see you soon for our winter migration. steve

Anonymous said...

gThat's a great story. You 3 little accomplices were way too cute I'm sure. My dad was the painter in our house. When I got old enough to help, dad and I would pick a room to paint every year during his vacation. Every few years we would have to paint the house since we lived in an old wood house in Detroit. Scraping old paint in the summer heat was a treat!?! My dad was a Jim Beam and 7 up guy.It used to come in cool collector bottles. Hey Steve get those paint samples ready. Oh wait Jodi has plenty!!! Light copper. Perfect!

Erik Donald France said...

Fantastic! Loved it. A cool memoir clip, indeed. I'm with your father in attitude, I admit, but it's all good ;->

Anonymous said...

That scaffolding would work great for a high rise deer blind.

DIng DIng DIng the bulb just turned on over my head.

Anonymous said...

Do you remember the time we were at your house, and our folks had gone out somewhere leaving us kids home alone. We got running around the house, I believe messing with Steve....and he threw a TV Guide at one of us, it hit the wall in the hallway! Leaving a noticable smudge on the wall! Panic set in knowing full well the rath on Aunt Nancy would be apon us. Steve found paint in the basement and carefully rolled a fresh layer over the spot. And a moment with the hairdryer we were int he clear! OMG what we went through waiting for them to get home, and wondering if they would notice or not! I don't remember that they ever did, somehow we were able to cover up the paint smell! whew! :o)

Michelle's Spell said...

Hey gorgeous,

This made me laugh! I love the color and the story is adorable. Best line ever about men not needing to know everything. :)

Anonymous said...

You sound just like my mom! She is redoing the kitchen, art work and all next time dad goes to Nashville, which I believe is soon. She is all excited and might tackle the laundry room (again) soon too. We may need to borrow the scaffolding, I think their foyer is coming up soon too, there are too many paint samples to keep track of! BTW, love the color! I can't wait to get a house so you and mom and I can pick out colors! Kel

JR's Thumbprints said...

I'm like a surgeon when it comes to painting; I use a paint-stick.

jodi said...

Gary--Yes my foyer is 18 feet high! Charles--yes, I am a freak. Love the instant gratification. WM--I think you are right about Dad. Thanks for the support. Steve, 8 days and we are OUTTA here! Rose--Glad you liked the light copper! Eric-thank you for the compliments! Anon--You have a sick mind, you screwball hunter guy! Lynette--I totally remember that! We were brats! Michelle--glad you got a giggle! Kels, your Mom and I think alike xo. JR-oooOH! Now your talkin'! We can compare painting tips, yeah!