This little gadget right here saved my trigger finger’s life today:

I noticed it when I was buying spray paint at Home Depot, but passed it over, figuring it was a gimmick that didn’t really work. I did make a mental note that it was the last one left however, which could mean one of two things: a) it is a really cheap gizmo and the reason there’s only one left is because they aren’t restocking them or b) it’s a really terrific gizmo and people are buying them off the shelves in a fury.
After getting home and setting up my tarp and tables, I pulled out the first of many (many) cans of spray paint. I was skeptical about painting furniture with spray paint, but after hours of painting the tables with the leftover paint from the bathroom, I decided that there had to be a better (and faster) way to achieve my glossy red table dreams. Enter spray paint. It all went swimmingly, at least for the first three minutes. Then, I noticed that my finger was weakening at an alarming rate and that the quality of my spray painting technique was quickly diminishing. No good. So, back to Home Depot it was for the little beauty above (and more cans of spray paint. How come it doesn’t say ON the can how much surface area it will cover?). It worked like a charm and is one of the best $3.00 investments of my life. Total spray gun action.
At the end of the day, this is what I had:

Three tables and one little stool. The two matching Shaker tables were from my parents. My mom and I figured they were at least 20 years old. They have seen a lot of love, so a coat of paint was in order. The other table was my nightstand in my childhood bedroom. It’s been all sort of colors in the last 15 years. I think red will look good on it. The little stool was a gift from my mother for my college apartment. Living with someone who is under 5 feet tall necessitated such things and I’ve found it comes in handy in this house. She painted it a wonderful set of yellow, pink and turquoise, which looked great in my apartment, but not so much in my grown up, married house. So, red it is again.
I will need to apply a few more coats tomorrow, but I really love the look of these. But why oh why must I love red so? It’s such a fickle color to paint with.
I also wanted to show you an after photo of the ugly stump. Here’s the before:

And here’s what it looked like today:

Obviously a much better improvement. I had the bright idea that I would “organize” all of those chunks of wood today in between coats of spray paint, but they must weigh as much as me. So, after moving one piece two feet, I called it a day on that one.
On a different note, the week of Orange ends today. I have to admit I sort of sputtered out on this one toward the end of the week. It’s so hard to get good pictures when it’s dark at 5:30. I had a great shot today, but when I pulled my camera out at the hot dog joint in town to capture our chili dogs in all their glory on a bright orange tray, Matthew gave me a look of horror and said, “You’re kidding me.” Shorty’s Hot Dog place is a cool place, a guy place. Taking pictures for blogs is totally unappreciated. I saved my husband the embarrassment and put the camera away. So, you get Cheez-its instead. Yeah, I know, sorry. You can see the rest of my Orange Week photos on Flickr.




Love your red tables. I found a shaker table like yours near the dumpster last summer and made sure there was nothing wrong and it now holds my acrylic paint stand with all my paints. Not sure why they were tossing the table.
Matthew really had to work hard on that tree. Looks much better!
We have one of those spray can doohickeys!!! They are a lifesaver. Last year we took some doors outside and sprayed them. You don’t think about it when you’re doing a small area, but when you are putting on can after can of paint, it can really get to you!! Nice find.
Fred
http://www.oneprojectcloser.com
[...] we’ve even more wood to take care of, in addition to this. Sure wish we had a fireplace right about now. Or a wood [...]
[...] And it’s kind of hard to be discreet when your camera bag is bigger than your purse. Or your husband’s backpack. Okay, not really, but it might as well be the size of the Goodyear blimp as far as the WMD’s concerned. And that’s not a good thing in his book, especially at Shorty’s. Particularly at Shorty’s. [...]