When Michael and I were building the house, we were pretty tight on funds so we did a lot of the finish work on the house ourselves. The guys who were working on the house were clearly baffled by both our initiative and our talent. They were constantly pointing out to Michael that he had ‘one hard-working woman’ on his hands. They were amazed that I could varnish a piece of wood , put together a small bathroom vanity from Home Depot, or heaven forbid carry a bag of potting soil. When I started painting the walls it was apparently just too much. “Georgia, you can paint?” they cried. I was past being flattered by my ability to amaze them so I replied, “It’s just a wall, for heaven’s sake. It’s not a Picasso.”
I was painting ten years ago. I am still painting today. Inside. Outside. Constantly it seems. In California, we lived in our house for 10 years and had it painted (note the HAD IT painted, not PAINTED it part of this sentence) not because it really needed it but just to spruce it up a little to sell it in a tepid real estate market. Here in the islands keeping up the exterior of the house is like maintaining the Golden Gate Bridge. It seems that I start at one end and work around just to start over again. And if I am not quick enough, my gardener will gently nudge me by pointing out that I need to get back to it.
When we chose our paint and colors originally, we were trying to find that stunning yellow/orange/pink color that exists on houses in Tuscany. That color that veritably glows at twilight. Sadly, the intense, nearly equatorial sun in the Caribbean does not seem to be conducive to that phenomenon. Even so we chose a color called Whispy Peach. We bought it in an elastomeric, outdoor paint that was touted to hold up well even in tropical, coastal locations. And it has. The paint itself has held up wonderfully. It doesn’t peel or flake at all. However, it does fade. When it does, it’s not that it looks awful. It just doesn’t look beautiful which is apparently, in retrospect, why many island homes are simply white. So I keep re-painting: the ocean side, the street side, the garage, and around again.
Then there is the roof. The roof is concrete and painted white. We collect rain water off of the roof into our cisterns for use in the house so we want the roof to stay clean and in good shape. So every 2-3 years, Michael and I pressure wash it and clean it and paint it again. In some ways painting the roof is easier (mostly painting at your feet or slightly above rather than painting higher than your head while standing on a ladder). In some ways painting the roof is harder (hauling everything up and down, working in the sun, and going ‘snow blind’ from the glare of the whiteness). As a result, we have attempted to hire someone to paint the roof.
A few years ago, we had someone come out to give us a quote. Now first, let me explain how quoting for jobs works in the islands. It’s like the worst version of trying to buy a rug in Morocco. Michael starts the conversation by explaining that he is not going to bargain. The guy can give him one price, his best price, and Michael will say yes or no and then that’s it. There will be no counteroffers and counter-counteroffers. Period. So first the guy says, “Hey, don’t worry, man. Trust me. It ain’t gonna kill ya.” Michael says, “Yeah, just the same, I’d like a price before you start.” So the guy says he wants $3000US, United States money, to paint the roof. (Oh wait, let me clarify – this is labor only. I’ll have to buy the all the paint, the rollers, and the beer.) Michael says, ‘No thank you very much. That’s ridiculous. I’ll paint it myself.’ And the guy leaves. An hour later he calls, “How about I paint the roof for $2000?” Michael says, “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. You got one chance to give me a fair price. I said no. That’s that.” So the next day the guy comes by. “Ok. Ok. Ok. I’ll paint the roof for $1000.” We painted the roof ourselves.
Now a few years later the roof needed painting again. Now we are a few years older and starting to think that we really shouldn’t be climbing up on the roof so much anymore. As a result, we tried again to find someone else to do it. We’re in the midst of a horrible, global recession. Certainly somebody out there must be interested in making some money by painting our roof. Michael asked three people to come by to give him a price. Only one came. He stood in the driveway, kicked the gravel, and went on and on about how this was gonna be a tough job (we know we’ve done it ourselves); how getting the paint up there was gonna be really hard (sure, but my ‘hard-working’ woman/beyond middle-aged wife can do it so how tough can it be?); and how he’d have to be out in the sun working (of course, this is a roof after all and you’d hardly want to be painting in the rain). He said he’d work out the numbers and get back to us. That was the last we heard from him.
That’s why the two of us spent a good long week last month cleaning and scraping and sealing and painting our own roof again. It’s not Guernica by any stretch. But it was good, honest labor done well. Plus I figure it’s worth at least $3,000US.
