I swear by all that’s holey (socks, sheets, old facecloths) that I am going to write a ‘How-to’ book(let) for mobile home owners—at least for the DIY owners of mobiles like ours.
Those older but still classy mobiles—the kind that remind one of those sweet little white-haired ladies you see at a party. Decked out in their lovely evening gowns and looking so classy; until you move in for a closer look and can’t help but notice the thinning, wrinkly boobs have been pushed up a tad too high and if you look you’ll catch a glimpse of a torn lacy gray slip hanging low on one side. Lean in real close and you’ll smell a hint of arthritic muscle rub twisting around their luscious rose-scented perfumes.
That’s kinda the mobile we have. Looks good as long as you have one eye closed and are quickly rotating the other.
This baby of ours has an overload of one inch pretend-wood trim board. It crowns the top of every wall. It runs down the seam of every wallboard and it runs about three feet up, parallel to the floor, around every wall. Kind of like a top rail for a low wainscoting only they forgot to install the wainscoting!
The phony-balony wood finish also covered all four hundred cupboards in the kitchen. (Okay, eighteen in the kitchen, four in the laundry area and more in each bathroom).
What wasn’t covered in pretend wood was painted white and, at first, it did look clean and fresh but fast forward six months and white was feeling more empty than fresh.
A month ago I decided: Creamy yellow for all top cupboards, soft green for bottom ones and Caribbean Mango smoothie for one long (30′) wall.
All the goofy wood-ish trim could stay as is.
Cupboards turned out fantastic, and I especially love the hammered metal spray I used on the 50 hinges and 34 handles—which happened after pricing out new hardware.
And, with all that time spend in the carport painting and spraying, I got to know the neighbor quite well.
Then it was time to paint the wall.
Orange is a funny color. Don’t get it right and every time you walk into the room (and in a mobile you are constantly walking into ‘the room’) the wall isn’t going to sweetly say, “Hello again!”
No—it’s going to slap you with a growly, “What the hell do you want this time?”
But, as they say, I reefed up my big girl panties and rolled on the paint. The first coat dried ugly-splotchy and as I stared at it I was estimating how many coats of white it was going to take to cover it up.
But the little voice inside said ‘one more coat.’ I listened and painted again, and then, after a long nap in Man-wonder’s recliner, I woke up to find the wall smiling at me.
And, even though it’s more of a Mexican Tango than a Caribbean Mango, Man-wonder and I agree we can live with it.
Now this is where a ‘how-to in a mobile’ booklet would have been a blessing. You see, for once in my life I was overzealous in taping. Every single piece of stinking pseudo-wood trim was taped over because I had no intention of painting it.
But—painter’s tape and pretending-to-be-real-wood finishes don’t play well together. When the tape came off so did the photo-finish of the trim. . .
Ever think you’ve finished a job only to find out you’ve just finished the easy parts?
The trim is going white and while I’m painting all six million feet of it— I’m going to practice loving white. . .