The door-painting project got postponed until this week, due to a combination of scheduling and weather factors. (Apparently hurricanes affect weather even this far inland. I don't think hurricanes should be allowed to impact weather anywhere you can't get good fish for a decent price.)
With painting on the agenda for today, I dug in my closet and located my painting skirt, a garment that was once an acid-washed denim, late bleached, painted, and adorned with dark blue patches where the bleaching got carried away. I put it on and realized in the couple of years since I last had occasion to paint the elastic had disintegrated and it no longer had any power to hold itself up. I am contemplating whether it is worth saving for the second trimester of future pregnancies, but I'm not sure I would be engaging in any projects sufficiently toxic to justify it. I don't think anyone else would want it, and it is rather past the point of being used for rags, so I may have to just plain throw it away.
Regardless, it was not suitable for wear today. So I pulled out another skirt, nearly as old but not yet so colorfully adorned, and tried it on. The elastic had likewise disintegrated, but it had a smaller circumference to begin with, so it seemed to be staying up. Over the course of the day, however, especially when I put my cell phone in my pocket, it began to sag threateningly. Before heading out with D1 for a walk, I decided it needed the added precaution of a safety pin reducing the waist band. So far, so good.
I'm not sure how well the door painting is going. I've had little experience with home improvement projects, as up until now I have lived with people who were much more competent in the area and were content to do it and leave me to fix dinner. But since the front door was never even painted by our predecessors, and was industrial gray accessorized by tape fragments and rust spots, I don't think I can make it look worse than it was.
Time for another coat.