The Wall of Shame

I figured painting would be a piece of cake.

First, I like to paint.  I pretty much enjoy the whole process, even the dreaded taping, patching, and sanding.  Sure it’s work, but doing it right will produce the desired results.  That’s my motto.

Secondly, I’ve done a lot of painting.  Even painted professionally, if you consider getting paid for providing a service professional.

And thirdly, I had tips and tricks from a pro.  Yeah I paid a high price for the information, but I learned a few things from the Painter and I believe in giving credit where credit is due.

I was prepared.

It’s okay … you can laugh now if you want.  I don’t mind.  Really I don’t.

Turns out I was just as ill equipped for doing something I’d been doing for much of my life as I was in every other aspect of this project.  This fact culminated in what I now term as “The Wall of Shame.”

On one of our first visits to Home Depot I noticed some $9.00 paint rollers made of lambskin.

“Who would pay that much for a paint roller?” I commented to my husband.

He merely shook his head as we walked away.

As the story goes, I lived to eat those words.

The painting up until this point had gone fairly smoothly.  With some coaching from The Painter, I did all the trim, both bathrooms, the living room, and the master bedroom.  Then I came face-to-face with my nemesis – the hallway.

(You’re rolling on the floor laughing aren’t you?)

In my defense, I will say the walls were anything but smooth.  In fact they had a sort of wave to them.  Bumpy even.  Especially in the northwest corner.

The already dark hallway grew increasingly dim in the setting sun on the day I started this task.  I painted furiously, hoping for once we could go home early and get a good night’s sleep.

At first I didn’t notice any problems.  Then I took a closer look.  Much of the paint wasn’t adhering to the wall, leaving large splotches of unpainted surface.

I carefully repainted the areas.

In the first couple of places I applied it, this method worked fairly well.

Then I came to the northwest corner.

I need to take a step back and remind you that I had purchased eggshell paint on the recommendation of the Home Depot Paint Expert.  I’d already been given plenty of grief from The Investor and The Painter.  I knew my folly.  Now I had to live with it.

The problem with eggshell, they told me over and over, is it’s impossible to blend.  If you make a mistake, you have to repaint the entire wall.  I’d managed to defy the paint experts so far, with no visible edges in those areas I’d repainted.  But the northwest wall defied me.

In the fading light, I noticed some irregularities.  I also noticed I was almost out of paint.  When I made my original purchase, I got only a gallon, which the Paint Expert assured me would cover the living room and hallway.

So I trotted off to Home Depot and picked up a quart of Behr Toasted Wheat in eggshell.

When I got back to the house, I set up the halogen light Andy had purchased on another trip to Home Depot, and went to work, spreading the paint onto the splotchy surface.

At first it seemed as if it might cover, but after a short while, I realized, it wouldn’t work at all.  In some places, the paint began peeling off the wall as I painted.  Instead of spots, it now had craters.  The wall looked a like a teenager with a bad case of acne.

I walked away, hoping to figure out a cure.  Nothing came to mind.

I went back to the wall and stared at it.  The more I stared, the worse the problem became.  I picked up a plastic scraper and angrily ran it across the offending paint.

Now I had a bare rectangle, measuring about two feet by one foot, in the center of the mostly painted wall.

Determined, I headed back to Home Depot.  I’d used most of the paint I’d just purchased, so I picked up another quart of Behr Toasted Wheat in eggshell, and a $9.00 lambskin paint roller.

It did the trick.  In another hour, the wall had a smooth paint job.

If I’d have been smart, I would have taken pictures of this nightmare.  But I’m not smart.  Smart would have bought the flat finish and spent the money on a lambskin roller in the first place.

The Wall of Shame - slightly less shameful

I had completed the task.  And if I do say so myself, the wall looked good.  If I hadn’t felt compelled to write about it, no one would know there had ever been an issue.

Lesson learned in this installment:  Start with the right tools.   Don’t skimp because you don’t want to spend the money.  Like me, you may end up paying for it anyway.  And double check to be sure you have exactly what you need before you ever leave the store.  It will save you immense amounts of grief later on.

Happy Transformation,

Shawn

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