The blue tarp of Sarlat...

The blue tarp of Sarlat...
I put the ugly blue tarp up in January to stop rain from leaking into the stonework while we wait for permission to renew it...

Thursday, July 5, 2012

The Agony and the Agony…



You may be wondering what happened to the ‘ecstasy’ bit and so am I.

I’ve been thinking of Michelangelo suffering atop his scaffolding as he painted the Sistine Chapel ceiling because I, too, have been marooned on top of a scaffold for four days now, inching my way across the web of beams that support the porch roof on the back of the house.

Whereas Michelangelo derived satisfaction (ie. ecstasy) from the fact he was painting a first-rate, world-class masterpiece, I am getting nothing but pain (agony) from the incredibly slow moving and tiresome process of staining the carpentry dark brown.

The porch is not particularly big – about 2.5x7.5 meters, or 8x25 feet – but painting the beams requires balancing on top our aluminum scaffold and trying to dab the three exposed sides of each plinth, plus its supporting columns and slanted bracings. I began this morning at nine and at nearly one o’clock had only managed to paint two sections, each about five feet in length.

The structure is new so all the wood is raw and, not having been sanded and finished so as to achieve a desirable ‘rustique’ effect, is like trying to paint syrupy glop over very rough sandpaper. What might take a few hours to paint on a prepared surface is taking me days – and I am sick of it!

Add to that constant attack by mosquitoes and horse flies, dust filtering into my eyes, the fatigue of climbing up and down, up and down, and moving the scaffold this way and that, and you begin to get the picture.

I took a break yesterday and popped into our local boulangerie to treat myself to one of the baker’s exquisite pain au chocolat. The girl behind the counter looked even more timid and frightened than usual (her reaction to dealing with me and my awkward French) and it was only afterwards I realized my face was speckled with fine brown dots. I looked all the world like I’d fled from a plague ridden city, a harbinger of death, a doomed man for sure - doomed to continue staining that damned porch for God only knows how many more days.    

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