Painting the Years Away

Earlier in the summer I peeled the gray imatation vinyl wallpaper from the walls of an upstairs bedroom.  The heavy vinyl came off in sheets,  leaving behind a layer of thick dried paste on a dusky, dark blue wall.

The wallpaper was at least 40 years old and covered not only the depressing blue paint, but the many holes that had accumlated over the years.  There were even tiny adhesive footprints marching up the wall and making a looping left.  I figured it must have been a nursery at one time.

I walked away.

This week I experimented with some hot water, vinegar and a sponge.   Hot damn!   The paste melted like butter and wiped off five minutes after wetting the walls.  I was able to not only remove the paste, but to also patch the holes in the same day.

Early in the morning of day two I wiped the excess drywall patch material off with the same solution.  By afternoon I was trimming in the corners, ceiling and floor areas with primer.  With a roller on a pole I filled in the blue space remaining.   Unfortunately, one coat of primer wasn't cutting the mustard.  The blue was lighter, but still making a statement.

This morning, before the rain, I walked three-and-a-half miles; mowed the grass, trimmed the hedges in an attempt to avoid the blue room.  After lunch I bit the bullet.

For the second time, I trimmed the corners and areas near the ceiling and floor.  This time the primer seemed to keep the blue in check.   That means the real paint can go on tomorrow.  The color is a very light pastel called sea foam green.

Go figure, me picking out a color named after water.  It's more white than green, like sea foam.

Before I begin, I think I'll invest in a new trim brush.  The one I use is probably 20 years old and has paid for itself many times over.

I'm anxious to finish the room.  Then I can focus on Imagine's brightwork.  All the teak needs to be sanded and varnished.   Did I say I hate to paint?

One may ask why my husband doesn't help?   Believe me he is either the worst painter in the world... or the smartest one.   He is so bad that I won't let him near a paint brush.  Between the drips and the paint going onto everything in the room, I've permanently fired him from anything that I think needs to look good.

He is permitted to paint the bottom of the boat and the oil tank behind the house.