Allow me to introduce myself. My name is William Swilliams Williams, and I fill the position of family butler for the Williams'. I haven't much to dae because the Williams are bleedin' tidy and ordered people whose three children are bleedin' well behaved and quiet almost all the time. I have therefore resorted to blogging to fill some of my spare time, and in the hopes that yeh, the reader, may glean wisdom from the Williams' example.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Paint and Patience

A fresh coat of paint on the wall can make an enormous difference in the way one feels about a room. Take for example the Williams’ main living room. For quite some time it was a dingy yellowish colour that made the room seem both too bright and too dark at the same time. One found himself squinting in the darkness as if he were standing in the middle of a campground at night staring into the kind of yellow light bulb that is designed to scare away insects. Naturally, the entire family was exited this past weekend to hear that Mr. Williams had decided to repaint with a colour described by the big orange store as "beach sands." Ceerio darkened sun. Wotcher soft, inviting, neutral beach-tone.

Patience, in my opinion, is a word created to describe the feeling of defeat and helplessness that invariably fills the chest when yeh cannot get what yeh want when yeh want it. Kill it, I say, before it gets comfortable. Therefore I cannot tell yeh much about the painting process because it just takes too long and is horribly boring to watch. Here are the highlights:
  • The primer went on.
  • Beach sands went on, but no one could tell. Beach sands is apparently a fancy name for more primer. Or to be more poetic, it is the colour of the reflection of light. At this point in the process, the Williams tried desperately to fancy the colour because they had painted the entire room in it, but no one could be sure what the colour was. It was as if yeh could not see the walls because there was always this blinding glary reflection from the light.
  • "Oat bran" went on. A noice colour going on to be sure, but one that has the same effect on a wall after a few hours as its namesake has on a colon in the same amount of time.
  • Gnashing of teeth.

As of this entry, the oat bran still clings to the walls, mocking Mr. Williams and his patience. Mrs. Williams is at the store choosing the foe that will be round 3. I’m orf to find some snacks and brandy – I think this round could be entertaining.

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