Are you kidding me? How many pictures and plaques do we have on our walls? How about 40? You can’t be serious. However, here they are just lined up on one side of our living room. They consume over half of a 20 foot wide wall. There is no stopping them. They are still multiplying. They range from a painting by one of my mother-in-law’s friends to a print of all of the old time Brooklyn Dodgers, from Wilbert Robinson ( an early manager of the Superbas and Dodgers) to Don Newcombe. I love that print. It is even signed by the artist, a senior high school principal from New Jersey (born in Brooklyn).
So, where there are pictures hanging on your wall, there are then holes of many differing sizes. Because of the size of each of the pictures, different sized hooks had to be used. A huge mirror (also making holes) takes a really big picture hanger. It also makes a big hole in the wall when you take it out.
Carol is quick with the spackle and the trowel to make sure it is a smooth job. She then waits a day and then paints over the holes. Can you imagine that some of the holes do not fill up easy? There seems to be a method to these holes. They fill up at first and then they appear to suck most of the spackle in and a small hole is visible. The spackle must be leaking somewhere over the rainbow.
The trick to matching the paint is to pray that we have the right color. Since the house is nine years old and has never been painted, the matching process is tedious. You must be careful that you stir the paint thoroughly, leave no blends apparent and with a small brush lightly cover the spackle. It most often works, but sometimes doesn’t.
One of our walls is not regular paint; it has brownish swirls and cannot really be duplicated. Since ours was the model home, there is no way to match the paint. There were also hooks that refused to be pulled out from the wall. It took all the skill and strength of my son and I to get it extricated. Yes it did leave a dent in the wallpaper which we fixed. Enough of this stuff. Bring on the Salvation Army and its truck, so that we can finally get rid of some things that we will not use in SC. That will be one of the final jobs. For now, we are still packing and throwing things away. I am hoping that the clothing that I just stuffed into that box around the corner, with the clasped hands, does not overflow before I get there again. Seems weird to see all of my winter sport coats going in there. Good bye my faithful friends and May someone else wear them for 30 years as I did.