All last week was dedicated to helping our Texas friends renovate their house. I mentioned this previously…working to repair damage that their renters had caused. Every wall in the house had to be painted, so I’ve been a painting fool. When I arrived at the house Thursday night, my friends weren’t there because they were making a Lowe’s run. I wandered through the house to see what needed to be done, picked up the paint and roller, and got busy. One hour to get the room rolled and edged. Because I’m good like that.
Because they’re going to put the house on the market instead of renting it out again, we painted every room the boring beige that you see in most tract homes. Roll, roll, roll. Edge, edge, edge. Touchup, touchup, touchup. Up the step ladder. Down the step ladder. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Saturday was the best day (except for the hitch in my giddy-up; not sure what I did to my back). The old gang was all together working to fix the house. Some were installing light fixtures. Some were installing outlets and face plates. Some were washing windows. Some were weed eating the yard. I was working out because I am the MASTER edger! Step up on the step-stool with the left leg. Edge, edge, edge. Step down with the right leg. Move the step-stool. Step up with the right leg. Edge, edge, edge. Step down with the left leg. I did this for a few hours. Three bedrooms (all about 10×15), along the hallway, and through the living room. Then I did touch ups along all the baseboards. Sit on the butt. Edge, edge, edge. Slide. Edge, edge, edge. As I was finishing up, my friend comes in, “Holy shit! You are an edging machine!” Why, yes. Yes, I am!
Then it was onto the ceiling fans. My husband was putting them together in the living room so I got all the hardware on the blades. One of our friends sat and helped get that together so we had a chance to visit while putting it together. Second ceiling fan and first friend headed down to grab some lunch and another friend (owner of the house) plopped down to help assemble blades/hardware. Two of her grandkids were there and they wanted to help so badly, so we let them hand us hardware.
It was a great day with a lot of hard work, a lot of visiting, a lot of camaraderie and rebuilding old relationships. I remember as a kid when my dad was remodeling the house we had just bought everyone in the neighborhood was there helping with all that goes along with a remodel. People brought food and drinks and extra hands. I remember there being a ton of kids hanging around and the adults letting the kids “help” with small tasks. One of my fond memories of childhood.
I miss this sense of community. It left when my friends moved to Texas. They seemed to be the glue that held our little “community” together. We’ve worked on building other “communities” but it’s not quite the same. Not the “let’s drop everything and help out a friend” feeling that we’ve had over the past week. I’ll be sad when they leave tomorrow. But it sure has been nice to see them again.