I will never win a prize
But future owners may think me wise
For my use of plaster.
Three coat stuff is what I mean
The hairy, skim, and in between
Putty, sand, and hair of horse
The subject of my discourse
Is plaster.
The scratch coat wore down my strength
Coat #2 had a long curing length
The skim coat, though, really takes the cake
For attempting to smooth it made my poor heart ache!
Oy! Plaster.
So to all of you in love with lime
Pray, make sure you take the time
To stop, and have a glass (or two, three, four) of wine
Before you inspect
Your plaster.
You might have guessed that I skim-coated the bathroom this weekend. It was a busy weekend indeed! Between V and me, the bathroom got skim-coated, two huge shade beds got laid out, edged, and partially lasagnaed (i.e., sheet composted--Never again will I dig and till a bed until my arms ache. Oh no, not me! Henceforth, my aching arms will be due only to plastering, drilling, carrying, and the other myriad "ing"s that come with owning an old house).
And I'm really proud of the plastering job. As long as no one holds a raking light across my walls, that is.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Poetry that moved me to tears. I loved it!
Glad you like it! I was inspired after going in (for at least the 50th time) to look at my skim-coating job and wondering aloud if I will ever be able to get a decent, smooth wall. A couple of glasses of wine later, it looked just fine. Lovely, in fact. And I bet it would have looked even better with just - one - more - glass, but alas, the bottle was empty.
Post a Comment