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It seems as though that is exactly what this weekend is turning out to be. A weekend of roundtuit.

Now I suppose that it should really be spelled “roundtoit”. But, seeing it, you wouldn’t pronounce “roundtoit” the same, correct way one would pronounce “roundtuit”. At best, “roundtoit” would be gifted a French sensibility and be pronounced, “rontoi“; but what the hell is that? And without the French inflection, well, “roundtoit” is just rude.

So “roundtuit” it is. “Roundtuit”, as in, “when I get around to it,” in case that wasn’t painfully obvious by now.

‘Round to what? Little things around the house that I’ve been putting off: painting the trim on the door frames, painting the window trim in the bedroom, touch-up painting all over the house. Lots of painting. Frankly, I’m sick of painting.

But you know what? From now on, when I’m sitting on the couch or walking down the hall or lying in bed, well, I won’t have that splotch, that ill-defined line, that naked, primered window frame taunting me. No, I’ve put those little household demons to bed.

Now I can sit back, relax… and ponder the other projects I want to get done around here. The joys of home-ownership.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

New pix of the “finished” product coming soon, I promise.


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