Watching Paint Dry

This post is coming to you from White Rock Public Library on the Pacific Coast just south of Vancouver. Internet access is free for scroungers like myself. It has been a momentous week for me, summer even. I have sold my house which I co-owned in Ottawa. Closing day was Tuesday and of course it was a scramble to get the place ship shape for the new owners. We installed new windows, the tenants moved out, I was packed and then moved and finally the clean up. Painting doors and windows, varnishing scratches and oh yes the thresholds too if only to create a good first impression. The neighbours jokingly said why bother, you did sell the place didn't you? At one point as the tail end of hurricane Ernesto settled over our region and the rains came I finally got around to painting outdoor steps knowing full well they might not dry before closing and the handing over of keys. So late on the eve of the big day I was reduced to watching over the freshly painted steps for a couple of hours, paranoid that neighborhood cats step on them and trail wet paint everywhere. I went to bed tempted to leave the doors open in case the still wet paint on the thresholds stuck to closed doors. I was awake at 3am and even went down to move the doors to prevent them sticking. Next morning sure enough in the yard there were paw prints in paint leading to the next yard. Whether it was the cats or racoons only they know. Watching paint dry is a demanding proposition.