Feel Like A Teenager Again

So I have a confession..... I REALLY like painting. I mean, it's not relaxing to me or anything, but like driving in a car alone...I get to get lost in my thoughts.

In high school my dad and I painted houses in the summer for a job. It was aperfect summertime job. I also spent weeks with my grandmother painting things around her house. Afterward, in the evenings I would sit and play cribbage with her and then watching some sort of Nick at Night rerun. Mainly Dallas. (She always acted surprised when JR got shot.) The days were normally scorching hot. I normally ended each project with a deep dark tan that I would pay for later in my life. It does not go without saying that there weren't times that I didn't want to be painting anymore....like the time I was painting a shed on a farm, and had been lying on the ground...when I got up a bull snake followed me. I had been painting atop a snake den. My dad killed it with a shovel and I went about my business. Or the time I was bitten a dozen times over on the feet by red ants...not knowing I standing in a pile of them. I also had a wild rabbit come sit in my lap while I was painting a fence once. That was a good beautiful serene moment. All in all... I have really good memories attached to painting, and although the smell is bad, I like it. I reminds me of people I love.

So, for the last couple weeks I've been painting, and painting and painting. Mostly inside, which isn't quite as fun. But I went out and painted outside just to get a little fresh air. I have so many colors started I can't hardly keep track. Can you guess where all these colors are going?! And now, unlike when I was sixteen, my back hurts, my fingers hurt from gripping the brushes and on and on.......

Song: All Those Years Ago, George Harrison