when the labor of love becomes a labor of evil hate and murder thoughts.

at least that's what's happening in my head as i scrape and make a crime scene of paint brains on my porch in an attempt to make this goddamn settee more pretty...

i applied paint stripper in the form of citristrip.

scraped with my trusty scrapers (i have 4 of varying shapes and sizes).

noticed that someone had decoupaged the shit out of it at some point.

not pretty.

applied another glopping of citristrip.


realized that my mess wasn't just paint scraps that i could sweep off but full on paint that was essentially glued to my porch..

i had to pack it in for the day but tomorrow i intend to slop on another coat of pink goo and scrape some more..

it is looking promising..

although i still have this to contend with...

assnooks and fartcrannies.

as soon as i get the old paint off (80 hundred shit years from now) i think i am going to do some kind of stain.

i think.

unless i love the wood.

in which case i am just going to wax it and cover it in gray linen.

to me this is safe.

i know.

and maybe sad and boring to some of you.

and a part of me really wants to gold leaf it and cover it in lavender velvet.


i know without a shadow of a doubt that there is no place in my house for a gold leafed lavender velveted settee.


so cheap linen for now.

more shenanigans tomorrow.

love and light danielle.