My dad was a weekend woodworker who created beautiful pieces of furniture in his garage workshop.
That careful craftsmanship and painstaking attention detail carried over into all his home improvement projects. I remember watching him paint a bedroom. It took forever. When it was done, it was perfect. But still, it took forever.
Not too long after that, I visited my best friend and was shocked to discover her bedroom walls sporting a new color. I remarked on the change, and she told me that she and her mom had painted the room that morning. I couldn't believe my ears. They had painted the entire room in less than one day.
Of course, they hadn't done all the sanding and filling and prep work that my dad had done. Instead, they'd simply bought some paint and put it on the walls. It wasn't perfect--not by a long shot--but it was done.
When I started painting this barn, I promised myself that it wouldn't become a major ordeal.I lied.
As much as I want to be Sarah and her mom, I'm really more like my dad.
This looks okay...
but not okay enough.
I'll probably still be painting this barn in April, but hey, it's going to be awesome someday!