Spackle Guy Madness

I've continued to work on painting
the house, especially this week
when I've been on hiatus from school.
Since this is a rehab
the walls are in various degrees of perfection.
There's new dry wall with no marks
there's old plaster with dents and grooves
and there's walls with big old pock marks.
When you paint, all these rough spots
are easier to see.

Me, I'm not a big detail person.
I don't pay that close attention to the walls.
There's walls in our current apartment
where you can see the patch tape through the paint.
Doesn't bother me.
Don't hardly notice it.

My husband, he notices.
He's the detail person.
So he also notices all these craters
in our new home and can't bare to
think of looking at them years from now.

So even now, after all the walls are painted--
he's spackling.
He's filling every small hole with white goop
and once he sees one legitimate ditch
ten others appear.

Last weekend this sent me into the worst mood ever
because each spot needs to be sanded down and repainted.
It feels like ten steps backwards when the
living room was done and now has
huge swaths of white plaster
that have moved in
waiting to be massaged away
so the wall can be painted.
Again.

"Why are you in such a bad mood?" Mad Spackle Guy asks
"Because this is the THIRD time I'm painting this wall.
And it might need a FOURTH time!
Put down the spackle knife. Please!"

This Saturday I took the morning off to have
breakfast with a friend
and returned to the house
to see spackle madness again.
Walls I had repainted over the week
were dotted with white patches.

"I can't leave you alone for a morning
and you start spackling!
You have lost your mind!"

And we laughed--
because Mad Spackle Guy
doesn't even like to spackle
but he does like things done well.

To make up for all the spackle
Mad Spackle Guy
taught me how
to install interior doors.
I was smitten.