We went last night to see a concert put on by a local community orchestra, which was held in a giant Episcopalian church, complete with flying buttresses and peeling paint. We haven’t gone out much lately, so it was nice to be out on the town (that’s twice this week for me – write it down!).
The concert was absolutely beautiful – definitely a professional level, which we weren’t expecting when we heard the word community. Apparently standards are high for violinists in Brooklyn. One of my coworkers was in it and he performed beautifully, so that was added fun. Also, there was banana bread.
I’m afraid that was the highlight of the weekend, as the rest was spent painting (and procrastinating painting) the basement. My only job in finishing off the basement has been occasional labor in helping with sheet rock and painting, so I was in high demand this weekend to bring in my skills. I admit that there is some skill there, as I no longer bother with painter’s tape at all, having found that I draw a better line by hand. This is accomplished by having done far, far too much painting.
I haven’t had a cocktail update in a while now because in all the fuss with using power tools in the basement, we’ve been forgetting to drink, which is probably a good thing, as I hear power tools and alcohol don’t go so well together. But now, looking at the gleaming white walls and ceiling of the basement, I feel a sense of accomplishment and celebration coming on, which means we’ll probably have these lovely coffees that my fiancé makes.
Fiancé being annoyed at me and demonstrating the height of our (beautifully painted) basement ceiling:
Sorry folks, he’s taken. Irate looks and all.
Make coffee, add liberal shot of Fra Angelica (hazelnut liqueur), cover in slightly whipped cream. Hand out to others, become instantly beloved.
Now I think I’m going to investigate my household’s potential supplies for removing ceiling paint from fingernails. I’d wear it with pride, but primer is so not my color.