I notice rough places where workmen slapped paint right over the chipped surface of the balcony columns. I look away. “No stripping, no sanding…lousy job.”
No one even tries any more, my father’s ghost sighs.
In a sudden fury I break off my manicured fingernails, leaving them bleeding. Inside, I bandage my fingertips, then drive to the hardware store for sandpaper, paint stripper, gloves. I am sanding away when my husband arrives.
He squints up at me. “Alicia, what are you doing?”
Fixing what your hired hands left wrecked. A true craftsman’s daughter, I sand harder. “Trying,” I yell down.
If it is worth doing…it is worth doing right. 😉