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7 years ago we hired a pair of women to paint our house. By the time they reached the last of the four sides, not only had they underestimated how long the job was going to take, but they couldn't stand working with each other anymore. So, on the east face, on the last too-hot day, they spread the paint on wood they hadn't prepped properly. After a year the surface was starting to crack and chip, and after 7 years it was a wreck of peeling paint.
Monica, who hates painting much, much less than I do, took advantage of a bout of underemployment and fine fall weather to scrape and repaint.
Of course, there's nothing like a fresh coat of paint on the walls to show how badly the windows need attention as well . . .
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