Almost 12:30 a.m. Friday night/Saturday morning here at work. Almost time for the amateur drinkers to leave the bars, go out into the parking lots, and call attention to themselves either by fighting or crashing their cars into one another. But in the meantime, I have a few minutes to tell you this: As of 7 a.m., I will be on my way home for four whole days. There are no shifts left uncovered for the next four days and nights, and so no chance that I will be called into work unexpectedly. There is no rain predicted for the next four days in my area. I called the folks at my part-time job and told them not to expect me in on Monday or Tuesday. I told my friends I'd arrive late and leave early at our long-standing plans on Saturday night.
For the next four days, I will be painting. I will put the second coat of dark green paint on the freizeboard and corner piece on the east side of the house, paint that little corner of the wall between the house and the side porch that for some reason I missed, and scrape and paint those two windows on the east side that are still white. I will scrub the dirt off the side porch trim and scrape off any loose paint and then re-paint it cream, will get the second coat of cream paint on the inside of the screen porch panels and re-hang my matchstick shades, will scrape off the loose paint on the front porch, fill some nail holes I missed, and paint the front porch yellow. I will toenail in those porch brackets piled on my dining room chairs. I will ask someone to move the big ladder over to the west side of the house so I can put on the second coat of paint above the dining room bay, then ask them to move the ladder again to the front of the house so I can paint the scary part above the living room bump-out.
I will do all of that. Well, okay, I'll do as much of that as I possibly can, and hope to get to the library to give you words, but still no photos, of my progress.