I love owls. Yes, I've admitted it. However, I've loved owls since before owls were plastered all over the pages of decorating magazines or pictured on the main page of etsy. I loved owls before they infiltrated home decor. Now that they are here, though, I am not complaining. I have been picky, though. I've been searching for the perfect owl to place on my bookshelf. I wanted a quirky owl that reminded me of the owl from Winnie the Pooh, the tootsie roll pop commercials; basically I wanted an owl that reminded me of my childhood. After years of searching, I finally found him.
I was Goodwill hunting (nice pun, huh??) for sheets a couple weekends ago when on the shelf he called my name. For only a dollar, how could I pass him up, the perfect owl?
John informed me as soon as I brought him home that he was creepy and weird-looking. I paid no heed, for I knew he was perfect...well, would be perfect once he was introduced to some white spray paint.
Early Monday morning after wiping him down I took him outside and sprayed, sprayed, and sprayed some more. It took five light coats to begin to cover up his natural coloring. Not to be deterred, I kept on spraying...until I discovered the bubbling. Oh the bubbling.
I blame the humidity. The back of the can states you should paint when the temperature is between 50 and 90 degrees and when the humidity is under 80%. After storming inside and checking weather.com I discovered the humidity was 90%. Yuck.
So, I let him dry to 24 hours, lightly sanded him and tried again.
I just finished up another couple coats of paint and am now moping on the couch. Ollie the Owl looks worse than Monday.
At least he won't creep John out anymore. Perhaps in a week or so I'll try again.