I never thought I would ever utter the words “I’m going to paint the fence”. I’m just not THAT KINDA GIRL, if you know what I mean. I truly admire ladies who can gung-ho-like wield power tools, be excited about heavy labour, and get dirty willingly, but I’m not.
Occasionally thought, I get in THE MODE where I want to prove that I’m not just a frilly girl who won’t get her hands dirty. The deck makeover was one such example. And when I decided the outdoor setting needed a makeover. Truthfully though, these moments are few and far between.
On New Year’s Eve, I decided in 34 degree heat that I was going to paint our backyard fence. Yes. Craziness. The thing is, I read all these home improvement blogs where people seem to effortlessly, NAY, MAGICALLY transform their homes. They make projects seem to ridonkulously easy. And then it makes me fret about not being more pro-active about jobs around the house. And then I make snap decisions like I’M GOING TO PAINT THE FENCE IN A DAY FLAT.
Forgetting, of course, that I’m not that kinda gal.
So anyway, I painted the fence.
And then I never blogged about it. For 6 months.
Why did I decide to paint the fence? Well, I hate that we have a nicely painted house, a beautiful white picket fence, and then raw ugly wood fence. It just didn’t fit.
So I went out to Bunnings and bought a can of this:
Speaking of Bunnings, I really think they need to have loyalty cards. S and I would so be on a trip to somewhere exotic if they had something like FlyBuys. We always buy way too much stuff when we’re in there. The thought that we could be HANDY is just too addictive to ignore and resist, and so we always fill the trolley with things we will NEVER use like nail guns, special sand papers, and garden soil. Ha.
So I happily carted it home, and got to work.
In 34 degree heat.
After 2 hours, the fence looked like this.
Not even a third of the way through.
See my teeny tiny Azalea bushes? I really hope they grow to be beautiful. If not, I’ll seriously be upset at my black thumb.
As for technique, well I didn’t use any. I was basically covering the ledge of the planter area with a piece of plastic to protect from drips, and then slapping that stain on with a big brush. I figure that with a few summers of adding to the stain, it will deepen and become a gorgeously stained fence. I actually have no idea what I’m talking about, but hey, the fence looked pretty good after 1 coat!
After a light lunch, lots of glaring at S (he offered to help but I wanted this to be MY I-AM-NOT-A-SISSY PROJECT), and mopping away of sweat, I got to it again. Blasting the boom box. Some light swearing and muttering. Lots of deck stain all over my arms, fingers and legs. And face. That S gleefully pointed out. Growl.
2 hours later, it looked like this:
I’m not going to lie to you, at this stage I nearly gave up. I hear you scoff at me. HOW WEAK. 4 HOURS OF PAINTING AND SHE’S GIVING UP?
Listen. I KNOW. I never claimed to be particularly resilient. Or strong. Or handy! All I know is, it was 34 degrees, that fence seemed to have grown longer over the afternoon, my brush was starting to moult, and I was GRUMPY!
I didn’t give up.
Several hours more later, and after checking for bits I’d missed, we have THIS BEAUTIFUL LOOK. I particularly love that the stain was dark, but still allows the knots and lovely wood marks to come through.
Huge improvement. The yard looks that little bit more complete. The azalea’s POP against the darker colour. And the bonus is I THINK I read somewhere that the stain would protect the wood for longer so our fence becomes more hardy. I could be wrong. But will keep believing it so I can feel like I made a difference.
Have you ever tackled a seemingly easy and quick job to have it completely whup you in the behind? Tell me about it! Comfort me with the thought that not everyone finds these jobs super easy and quick and are able WHIP THEM UP AND BLOG WITH AMAZING PHOTOS.