Paint Fumes ©

Oh my aching back.
I am still working on the porch but because they took so long getting their shit together, my parents and the contractor, I am the one fucked.
I have to drag all the wood to the basement then paint it two coats of primer then two coast of finish because its to damn cold outside for pain to bloody dry.

It’s not like I have a lot of room to work with and dealing with hundreds of boards of various sizes in a cramped space is a fucken production or disaster depending on where you are standing.

All I seem to be doing is moving them around most of the time from unpainted pile to painted in primer or finish.
It so tight I am banging into everything and getting paint all over the freakin place.
Everything down there is covered in paint.
Floor, walls, tools, me, Frick.

So, I was thinking……are you scared yet.
No, I was thinking how to deal with Skye’s request to post the last part of The Red Clay story.
Actually Skye, there are three last posts finishing it.

I was thinking to post the whole thing in one post but that’s almost 100,000 words and it might bog down everyone’s computer.
I could post the last three posts but anyone who hadn’t read the first batch would have no idea what the fuck was going on.
I could also post it again from the beginning and just cleaned it up a bit in 21 straight posts over 21 days.
Or I could just email the three posts to Skye and leave it at that.
Decisions, decisions, decisions

So I have decided to ask my readers instead.
Which one?

Have a nice day

Walker