I like older houses. They tend to have better proportions, higher ceilings, more space and sturdier construction. To me at least, they look better and are better than their modern equivalents but in Texas, an older house often means a wooden house.
That means a painted house which has to repainted when the old paint's had its day. If you don't, the place is going to fall apart. To avoid this fate, we contracted a painting crew.
This needs painting
They started off boldly, painting the interior of one of the mission churches and even got so far as the main door to the templo. It looked good, well done, Lupe and the Gang. Then they stopped. "What's happened to the painters?" I asked. No one knew, they weren't on the job and fortunately hadn't been paid. They mysteriously returned, after a month or so, and did a bit more work. And then disappeared, no one knew where.
Look! A Can of Paint!
This went on for months, with vague promises of a return to work while I gazed at the peeling paint of the house. Perhaps they'd come back and finish the job when the house had fallen down. "Sorry, Lupe, the house is no mas."
Then, as if by magic, they came back and they're working on the church now. In fact, they've been on the job for two whole days. Remarkable, call me a dreamer but the house may get its of coat paint yet; I look forward to the day.
A typical Front Office in need of paint
This fascinating tale is filed under Country Life in Texas, or would that be Tejas?
Remember the Alamo,
LSP
