This morning I painted the edge of the ceiling in the bathroom again, a second coat. Didn't take terribly long, although painting the edge of a ceiling when there's furniture and plumbing fixtures to work around--I have to put the ladder in the bathtub to finish the job--isn't exactly child's play. Nonetheless, it felt like an accomplishment, like I'd finally finished something in this house after a year and a half.
Of course then I remembered we still have plinth blocks and corner moulding to put around the door. Granted, that's another half-hour job, but the knowledge that it needed to be done--when I remembered around ten-thirty or so--rained out my mental tickertape parade. Oh well. I guess the truth is when you set out to renovate a house you're never really done.
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