I Did Not Celebrate Independence From My House.

It's been awhile since I've updated, and all of the work I do at the house blends together, so I don't have a day to day update list. Instead, I will write what was done over the long weekend.

Ran a bead of caulk around the first floor bathroom.

Scraped and painted the windows in the back of the house:

Scraped and painted one window in the front of the house. This picture serves as a kind of Living Before-And-After:

Scraped the landing in front of the front door. As you can see, there are layers and layers of paint. These stairs were once many different colors, most of which were preferable to the color they were yesterday. It looks a little like an Everlasting Gobstopper with all of the layers, but instead of a delicious core of sugar, there's an equally delicious core of lead paint. Yum:

Mowed the lawn. Here it is before the mowing:

Looks like a regular lawn? Maybe a little long, but not too bad, right?

Here's how long it was ( keep in mind that what looks like the base of the grass is actually buried in three to four inches of other grass) (also it was installed a long long time ago and has since absorbed a lot of rain to help it grow):

And here's my poor lawnmower trying its hardest to cut the thatch. Recently purchased and with no knowledge of what it was getting itself into (it's on the highest possible setting):

The lawn took forever to cut. The mower choked pretty much every time I moved quickly, so it was slow going. I had to do two separate passes to even make a dent.

Also making things slow? The bag on the mower isn't huge, capacity wise, so I had to stop and empty it a million times:

Painted a bunch of interior doors in my structurally unsound garage/paint booth:

I also did a bunch of other stuff on this long weekend, but didn't take pictures, so it's boring.

Also of note, on Friday both the electrician and Crazy Jeff Doors were supposed to work. Both, in lieu of calling, decided to stop by to tell me they weren't going to work that day. Both had miraculously forgotten that it was a holiday weekend.

When Jeff stopped by and chatted with me, he said that his crazy girlfriend, who is enormously fat and equally crazy, had an MRI the day previous (I don't have any idea how she fit into the tube, but whatever). He mentioned that the doctor said that the tumor, which I assume is somewhere in her chest, as he motions to his every time he mentions it, is getting smaller. I said how great that was and was thinking to myself at the time, "the tumor is smaller. too bad she isn't."

It probably makes me a terrible person to have that thought, but at least I didn't say it out loud? Right?