I had planned to paint it black …
But the only spray paint to be found in the basement was a rusty red color. I could have waited … could have made a trip to town … but that’s not me. When I’m in the mood to do something I do it. And this was one of those times.
“No worries,” I thought to myself, “red will work, too.” In fact, I’ve been adding touches of red to just about every room in the house. Don’t ask me why — I just like it. It captures my attention. And since I am so often seeing red, I figure why not bask in it all the time.
This bench has seen many a paintbrush. If I were really energetic, I’d have stripped it down to bare wood. But I wasn’t and I won’t.
I don’t do spindles.
I still wonder, though, WHO in their right mind would paint this bench purple?! And not a pretty lavender! A truly abhorrent shade of purplish-maroonish nastiness. Of course, if you’d seen how absolutely orange my rusty red paint looked against the horrid purple, you’d have thought me just as crazy.
Alas! After several finger cramps and nearly three cans of the cheapest, strangest spray paint I’ve ever used, I had a rusty red bench. Emphasis on rusty. As in, yeah, this could be called umm, burnt orange. It’ll look AWESOME in the fall, though. I’m positive.
And to be honest, it’s not my favorite shade. But the purple is gone, the bench is in my front entry and I’m happy that I can cross another project off my list. Oh, and I should mention that my wooden bench will never, ever RUST.
Turns out this isn’t a rusty red colored spray paint. It’s actually red oxide primer. To be used on “farm equipment, metals and mechanical parts to prevent rust.” Hmmm. I think I just figured out where on earth these cans came from. Whatever you do, don’t tell my hubby.
Trust me when I say, he’ll never know. Unless you tell him. Mum’s the word. Ok?
I’m pretty darned happy with the way it turned out. And even though no one ever uses the front door, they’ll be greeted by a welcoming seat when they do. And see that rug thrown over the back? I was going to sew it into one of those pillows like I made the other day.
But someone stole/misplaced/lost/hid the foot pedal and cord to my sewing machine. I say someone because I have no idea who did it because no one had it if you know what I mean. Kids!
Did I mention there’s a full moon? That explains EVERYTHING …
- Me settling for burnt orange
- Me determined to finish a crazy project
- Me unable to locate half of my sewing machine
- Me ready to strangle the sweet little angels in my midst
- Me refraining from strangling the sweet little urchin who picked all of the baby tomatoes
- Me biting my tongue (nearly in two) after discovering that the sweet little urchin who ruined this year’s tomato harvest also got hold of a can of my paint and added polka dots to the sandstones surrounding my flower beds
It’s been a day. Flag Day. Long may she wave.