Paint

We imported labor from across the sea, a man whose talent with the brush and skillful vision made Port Townsend’s Victorian ladies blush, and his wife, whose crystalline diction, purposeful navigation at SuperU, crisp sense of humor and perfect touch with pepper sauce wrought order in our dishes, the mud on the floor, Gabriel’s R and whine problem, and our kitchen.

Grandpa and Mimi came to visit us. Paul was perfectly patient during one of our numerous excursions to Leroy Merlin for paint and bathtubs, and they both were very adaptive, showing great courage and forebearing with the outhouse, the bats in the house, and the tiny mobile-home shower that greeted them.

By the time they left (this morning), we had a toilet installed and working, an outdoor solar shower, a sparkling mobile home, new comfortable chairs, and painted woodwork around all the windows on the outside that now perfectly match: the sky when it’s stormy, the garbage can from smictom, the gutters, the slate on the roof, and are a lovely complement to the red bricks.

Dishes have already started to accumulate, we’re wondering when they’ll be coming back and you’ll see a few pictures of the different parts of their trip (Quebriac, Martinique, St Malo, Paris). But this post is reserved for paint, with our profound thanks and love to Grandpa and Mimi.