This weekend was the Women of Faith conference in DC and my 10th year of attending! Such an encouraging weekend. I brought along a friend and got a chance to meet a few of her other friends who bought last minute tickets and decided to join us. My friend mentioned that one of the girls had just moved into a new townhouse and needed to paint her basement this weekend so she could get a renter by the following month. Seeing as I am a resident expert having put in many hours helping other people paint at least a dozen of their rooms for years before I had my own place, and also seeing as my place was finally done, I said, "Tell me where and when to show up!" This I realize is somewhat insane as I just met this person and was operating on little sleep from the past two nights. But I tend to volunteer first and think later. I know there are worse faults to have.
Sunday rolled around and I headed over to her house around 1:30 pm after having stopped at Wegman's on the way. If you don't have a Wegman's grocery store near you, I am deeply sorry because you are missing out. It's like a giant tummy tempting wonderland that is half grab-and-go upscale minimart and half art gallery of raw grocery displays. If you need it, they have it. And likely in abundance. I'd like to insert a special note that while I was shopping and tossing several things into my basket, I knew I was going over someone's house who 1.) wasn't currently married and 2.) moved in recently, so I knew there would be plenty of room in the fridge to store my stuff while we painted. I was right.
My first duty of the day - ceiling touch up. Oh Michelangelo, at least you had scaffolding on which to lay on and probably a steady influx of amazing Italian dinners from the local townsfolk for daily motivation. As for me, it was a large glass of iced tea, a trusty step stool and a wicked determination to not get a crick in my neck from looking up. My fine arts degree came in darn handy though as I touched up first the ceiling paint with the skillful hands of a master and then the wall paint. With the utmost of care. "My name is Karen and I'm a perfectionist." (Hi Karen!)
All I can say is that I operate out of this concept: I will give the same amount of quality, time and attention to your project as I would if it was in my own home. My dad taught me to do my best no matter what I was working on. Mowing the lawn, painting a picture, organizing a closet. If you saw the job I did painting in my condo, why yes, you'd hire me too! Plus, I will work for food. (I'm really not kidding.)
The friend of my friend came in the room and when she saw the work I had done, she was so happy. Warmed my heart when she said she couldn't even see where the messed up spots had been. (Aww, shucks!) Because just a weekend earlier, she was so frustrated after removing the tape she had left on too long and it peeled some of the paint off. It's just awful when you've put a lot of time into something and then the unexpected happens that takes a jab at your handiwork. Interestingly enough, I had learned that though she was 50, she had never painted a room her life! If it wasn't for our mutual friend, she never would have dreamed she'd be able to do it and taken the leap. She wasn't even going to go to the conference because she knew all the work she had to do that weekend, but as God works in crazy ways, she got her priorities right, went to the conference, met me and ended up with an experienced painting helper. (I mean, you just can't make this stuff up!)
After the touch up room, I was next put on edging duty in the bathroom. Lucky for me, I love to edge when most people would rather roll. Here is a before picture:
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| Walls were originally dark teal blue and they had primed last weekend. Things always look so drab when you start. |
It didn't take too long before all the edging was done. I told her she wasn't allowed to look (yes, I banned her from going into her own bathroom - aren't I bold) until I could get enough up on the walls for her to be wowed at her first glance. When she came in to roll, oh, she was wowed alright.
Now for the after picture:
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| My other artwork |
Why that is a pizza, you say as if I hadn't noticed. Yes, it is a pizza. A homemade one at that. How did that get there? In the middle of the painting story. Well, that's what I was working toward the entire day. See, I had bought everything to make a pizza and figured my new potential friend must own a pizza stone. She did. When we were finished with the three rooms, which included some nifty larger hole patching on my part thanks to a recent viewing of DIY videos, we wrapped it up around 9:30ish. Painting isn't very thrilling, so I thought you'd enjoy seeing pizza more. Though the room did turn out great. I had planned earlier in the day to make us some dinner as a treat and figured it would be easy for the girls to just be served in all capacities that day. In the past, I had made pizza only once or twice before, and with not so great results, but wasn't going to allow that to stop me from trying again. The night before I had gone over to my homemade pizza making expert friend's house and she whipped one up on the spot for us. I paid particular attention. I took mental notes. Oh, this time dough, you were not going to beat me!
Artichoke, Tomato and Pesto Pizza
Fresh dough from Wegman's (Used around 1/3ish)
Fresh mozzarella (cut in thin slices, but you can also use boccachini)
Pesto from olive bar
Mini artichokes in oil from olive bar (diced)
A can of cooked and peeled whole plum tomatoes (Use about 4-5 sliced thin and without liquid)
Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Stretch the dough out thin and get all right up to the edge of the stone. Poke several times with a fork. Put in the stove for 10-12 min until it's barely turning light brown. Remove and put a thin layer of pesto as the sauce, top with artichokes, tomatoes and mozzarella. Bake for 15-20 min until edges and cheese are slightly brown. Slice into wedges or squares with a pizza wheel. Don't burn your mouth!
The three of us, tired, sweaty and covered with paint, sat down for a glass of wine and a couple slices of some fantastic homemade pizza on her deck. (Oh yes, it turned out fabulous!) The weather was really nice at that time of night. Well over an hour went by of dining, chatting, laughing and getting to know one another better until it was time to go home. To think I would have missed all that if I hadn't just said, "Yes, I'll help."
I think I may have accidentally made a new friend today, because I certainly wasn't looking for it. She kept thanking me for helping her paint and I said, "Look, YOU did me the favor as I had nothing planed for today. Instead, I was able to have the satisfaction of doing good work, and having a great meal with fun company to boot." Not sure why she doesn't understand how I could think that, but I guess it's ideal for both parties when they are equally as grateful for the other.
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| Hand of the messy artist |
Don't think too hard about it. When opportunity arises, just say "Yes!" Especially if you actually know what you're doing, but even when you don't. You'll figure it out. We all have a time when we are just starting, or just starting over, and we need a helping hand. So we should always be ready to proactively offer the hands we've got. In the end, you're not really saying "yes" to a project, you're saying "yes" to a person.
The reward for this friend of a friend wasn't really getting her rooms painted (although that was nice) or for me making pizza (although that too was nice) but it was in the connecting of strangers, the internal confirmation that you are not alone and the potential to have possibly found a new friend. You really don't ever want to miss a chance to do that.
The pizza looks yum, and I have a room to paint if you every get the urge again. :-)
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