Wednesday @ 1300 hours: I have to lay down my paint brush. If I don't CP will be prying it out of my "cold dead hand". I just continue to see more things that need a brightening up. The paint used in this condo was probably "Baptist Church Paint". That means it cost $10 for 5 gallons and then Jose and friends probably cut it with water. I'm getting pretty good with a brush and self-leveling quality paint. But I have to take a break now so the house doesn't smell like a chemical soup when the new in laws show up for Thanksgiving dinner.
I'm sorry I shamed the Kahuna into doing some home repairs. We were supposed to go to Savannah during this week but the Obama-Recession changed our plans. So you found one ant in a light fixture and your ready to throw the bomb. What kind of ant was it? My philosophy of old houses is the same as my philosophy of old cars, "don't fix anything until it starts to stink". Make sure your bomb isn't the flammable type. However, with real estate prices being what they are in the southern tier of New York, I would expect the flammable ones are all sold out. Do an Elmer Fudd, just go up in the attic and start shooting.
Speaking of odors, I realized what owning a Honda really means, and why they are so popular. When you're sitting at a stop light and you smell an odor you don't have a panic attack. Subconsciously you realize it's probably the car in front of you emitting the smell. Another change that Honda owners experience, is that when something doesn't work the problem is probably with me and not the car. I realize it's time to read the manual, because nothing ever breaks on a Honda. My trusty smeller did throw a code last week when I parked the Olds in the garage. I picked up on that telltale smell of antifreeze. Sure enough, the only hose I never changed (one that was a special metal pipe that snaked around the frame and firewall) had rusted out. I plan to keep my nasal code-reader at least until GM goes belly up.