Labor of Love

I remember the old days when Mom's kids and kids-in law, including grandkids, would gather with brushes, ladders, and paint buckets to paint the house.  You painted often in those days.  The paint lasted 5 - 6 years.  Also, it was all manual labor.  No mechanization.  It was hard work.  It still is.

Testing out the equipment.  Refining the spray pattern.

One of my sisters in law called those work sessions a "labor of love".  Sometimes it still is.  It was with us this weekend.  Nathan gave me a coupon at Christmas.  "Let's paint the house, Dad."

Painting is in his genes.  I had a painting business for 14 years, summers when I was teaching.  When I became a principal I no longer could paint in the summers but I bid several jobs (and so did the kids) and Ben, Kari, and Nathan all painted many of their high school and college summers.  I owned the equipment.  They did the labor.  They still are.  Our home was due a new coat of paint. It had been 15 years since the last painting.   I now rent the equipment.

Start on an easy side to get back into a routine.

Kids do the house numbers.

Cailyn, who also painted through college (note her painter bibs) jumps in.  Notice the legs on left.  I am sitting, observing and admiring.

Wants to climb.

The long side, everyone joins in.

A good spot to practice.

Me too.

The artiste.

Put on some serious paint.

And some fun paint.

Jane really wanted to paint so we gave her some doable projects.  She did very well.

Then, as I was cleaning out the airless sprayer, she created some water art in the backyard.  Photo by Nathan.

A productive weekend (Saturday and Sunday afternoon).  Barb is not in the photos.  She took all but the last picture, fixed the meals, rode herd over the gkids, and painted.

Labor of love.