The tall wall —
formidable task,
to paint while wearing
an oxygen mask.
The air so thin
at ceiling height,
Kilimanjaro
seems low and slight.
But the need is great,
the change will be stellar;
it’s way past time
to paint old yeller.
In 2017, I downsized and moved into this house. Gradually I’ve changed the colors on the walls. I loathe painting.
I have lived with the old color in the “great room” until now because the ceilings are so high, and that makes for very tall walls. My family has made me pinky-swear that I will stay off ladders. Not because I’ve fallen but because I’m 81. Ageism! I’m 31 on the inside!
This will be a huge project. I’ve started the taping. Some serious oofs and creaks from this 31-on-the-inside body as I taped the baseboards.
Yesterday my young-adult grandchildren came to help move furniture, preparing to help with the painting. I will paint what I can reach with both feet on the ground; they will do all else. My son will donate his very tall ladder to this worthy project, which will be done in fits and starts according to differing schedules. I anticipate mayhem for some weeks.
My muse has run for cover.
Oddments 
June 22, 2024 at 1:00 pm
As I read your delightful poem, I wondered how high you were going to go. I thought that would make for some interesting future poems. I’m glad your family is rising to the occasion. I think I saw your muse under the couch.
June 22, 2024 at 1:21 pm
“Rising to the occasion.” Good one. I will most certainly check under the couch — she should be helping! Should I try to climb any ladder so high, you can bet there would be future poems — from the ER, where I would be getting exactly zero sympathy from my family. Thanks, Dan!
June 22, 2024 at 2:33 pm
I understand. My wife has warned me to carry my phone because she said she wouldn’t even call 911 if I got hurt doing something stupid.
June 22, 2024 at 2:44 pm
I’ll be laughing for a while about this. Fortunately, no coffee.
June 22, 2024 at 7:10 pm
‘rise to the occasion’–that caught my eye and made me laugh, too!
June 22, 2024 at 1:45 pm
Maureen, Your poem is awesome. Yes indeedy, them’s is some high walls! But conquerable…..by a feisty 81 year old and adult grandchildren and a tall ladder. And, of course, paint!
I’ll be 85 this year, and strangely I’m also 31 inside. Ageism gets us all. I don’t have a muse, but every time I’m even thinking about trying to tackle a job like that, my one working brain cell screams, “YOU OLD FOOL. ARE YOU NUTS?”
Please promise you will let the grandchildren take over and have the honor and pleasure of sprucing up grandma’s home. This is a wonderful memory for them. You find a comfy chair and take lots of photos of them to put in their albums.
BTW, I think your muse is hiding outside in your garden. Watch where you water….and step!
Ginger🦋
June 22, 2024 at 1:51 pm
Thanks for the laugh, Ginger! I also have had the experience of being upbraided by whatever is left of my brain because I’ve thought of doing something I hadn’t oughter. But I think I’m OK doing what I can with both feet — or other parts of my anatomy — on firm ground. It is indeed strange (or maybe not) that we are both 31 on the inside!
June 22, 2024 at 2:43 pm
Oh, I’m so glad you pinky-swore to stay off ladders! (Please don’t ever swear off on composing poetry!) 🌹
June 22, 2024 at 2:45 pm
Thanks, Carol! I am more careful than I want to be. It hurts my pride, but better that than my bones, I guess.
June 22, 2024 at 2:56 pm
I hear THAT, Maureen. I’ll tell you, though, I never would’ve guessed you (or Ginger) to have entered your 80s! I joke with husband that 72 is the new 68 and a half, but really, 80s might very well be the new 60s.🌹
June 22, 2024 at 3:09 pm
Thank you for the laugh! Take it from one who knows: the 80s are just the 80s. Enjoy being a kid of 72!
June 22, 2024 at 3:12 pm
😂 🌹
June 22, 2024 at 3:09 pm
You’re very lucky to have helpers! Definitely stay off the ladders!
June 22, 2024 at 3:11 pm
You’re so right about my being lucky! I wish you weren’t right about staying off ladders, but there’s where I won’t push my luck.
June 22, 2024 at 3:59 pm
All the best with the painting project Maureen. What an image of ceilings higher than Kilimanjaro!
Love the Muse hiding under cover ..!
June 22, 2024 at 4:03 pm
Thanks, Suzette! This is going to be wonderful — when it’s over!
June 22, 2024 at 4:52 pm
Hi Maureen, good luck with this painting project. Do be careful. I spent the entire day in the ER with my aunt today. She neglected a bladder infection and now she is in terrible pain with a chronic kidney infection. A fun poem which I enjoyed
June 22, 2024 at 5:48 pm
I’m so sorry to hear about your aunt! That is serious, and I hope they doctors are helping her with that pain. Not a fun time for you, but you were good to be with her. Glad you liked the poem, and thanks for the good wishes!
June 22, 2024 at 6:21 pm
Oh yes, we share something else – high ceilings and walls that need to be repainted. I keep cleaning spots and hoping they make it a little while longer. The colors are all acceptable, but they certainly do need refreshing. I am the only one in the family who really likes to paint, but I also have to stay on the ground with both feet because my trusty step ladder with wide steps just won’t get me there. So…I will be looking at a cash register going ka-ching, ka-ching when I finally have to call ‘uncle’ and pay someone. Applause to your son and grandkids for helping their special person out with this project. Great poem!
June 22, 2024 at 8:20 pm
Thanks, Judy! I got an estimate on having this room painted professionally a few years ago, and it gave me palpitations. No doubt it helps if you LIKE to paint, but it’s still a lot of work. I like it when it’s done! I congratulate you on making the colors last. It’s a good strategy. Meanwhile, don’t we hate not being able to do something! We, who used to do everything and then some!
June 23, 2024 at 10:39 am
I could use a t-shirt with this on the front and the back in bold letters: “Don’t we hate not being able to do something! We, who used to do everything and then some!” It’s something you don’t think about until that day arrives, and it is too late. 🙂 I painted our garage last year and couldn’t believe how tired I was and how long it took me. 🙂
June 23, 2024 at 11:02 am
You painted a garage! Angels and saints! I cannot imagine doing such a job. No way. But I know the feeling about not believing how tired you were. Yes, this sneaks up on us. I don’t know when I lost my Wonder Woman credentials, but they’re sure gone. I raise my mug of serious morning coffee to what’s left of us!
June 22, 2024 at 7:16 pm
‘time to pain old yeller’…I love a good rhyme. My husband and I chickened out and had the inside of our house painted last year. The taping off was going to be enough of a pain without even having brought out the paint and rollers. Plus….cats. The painters came and cats hid until they were done. And a good time was had by all. 😺 Be careful! I can see your son writing about you: ‘We told her not to paint, cause young she ain’t.’ 😆 I love being 31!!!
June 22, 2024 at 8:25 pm
Oh, yes, I can see that on my tombstone now!
Cats and paint? Ye gods, there’s a complication I’d never imagined! A good time was had by all, eh? So good that cats and painters understood each other! Thanks, Lois!
June 25, 2024 at 1:30 pm
What a fun poem about a non-fun activity. I have to tell you about the time my mother helped me paint my room when I was a teenager. We had bits of several colors, so I asked to paint each wall differently, since we didn’t have enough of any one color to do them all, and money was tight. I was painting diligently away when a heard a splat and a giggle, then another splat and a giggle. I looked around, and there was my mother, loading a brush and flapping it at one of the walls, splattering it with a contrasting color and giggling like a loon. So I lived in a bedroom that looked like a Jackson Pollock until we could afford enough paint to cover it all. She was a pistol!
June 25, 2024 at 1:42 pm
I am chuckling here. Splat, giggle: voila! Bedroom painted! I admire your mother for making such a chore entertaining. I think she knew it would make a good story some day! Thanks, Marian!