Spun Mess

I am aparently the texture queen here at ASF. As such, my responsibility is to do allllllll the texture the paint department wants. Today's texture was for a raised wood-grain effect, that is way cool (if I do say so myself). It's supposed to look like an old wood floor. Well, since it covers every plank of wood on the floor, I needed a lot of it. I even did the math for it (which I'm sure, now, it's quite wrong). Because I have to keep stopping for one thing or another, because I am still a painter and should paint something ever so often, it took all day to scoop up the largest quantity of stuff. After that I had to add a hazardous powder, which ment I was to take it outside. Not a problem. I get everything measured out (I'm smart enough to keep seperate the powder to slowly pour into the mixture while sturring) and start sturing. Well, it's already late; past quitting time. But I'll be, I wanted to get that done. It starts spinning (like adding flour to cake mix, but in a 5 gallon bucket), I pour a little, it mixes, I pour some more. Eventually I get really good at this. But, like I said: it's late, and, of course the one time I'm actually outside, it's pretty darn cold. FYI: Yesterday was 78... yes, Fareignhight (but don't hate me too much, right now it's a FYAO 35). So, due to all these factors, and the factor that I'd been mixing for a while so my arms were getting tired and I was getting a little too confident for my own good. The mix decided I must be brought down... the tyrany must stop! And so it splattered all over me.


This isn't a picture of the actual mess, but it's a good representation of it. Consider the substance very thick and very all over the place. My clothes can stand up on their own (hopefully not after the third rinse cycle I've put them through tonight), my once soft shoes can now be mistaken for steel-toes, and my face (under the dust mask) was agast. I just started laughing as I scraped it off my clothes and then proceeded to take what is possibly the smallest spatula the paint department has (1x2 inch blade) and scrape it off the deck floor before proceeding to the vertical chunks. Thankfully, Dusty came out. She saw what happened and thought I was crying, because I was bent over and she couldn't see my face, due to the mask. But no, I was smiling, having just had a good, hearty laugh. I think she still thinks I was crying, but no. Anyway, Dusty helps me pick it up. She used a putty-knife... smart girl. That's why she's the boss. Anyway, I got home around six, tired as all could be.
Hope ya'll are having a great time. This is me, reminding all you cool cats out there to take it slow, it's less messy in the long run. Signing off.