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Looking Out My Back Door: A little paint covers a multitude of sins

Years ago, a builder said to me, “Paint covers a multitude of sins.” I didn’t need convincing. When I was a senior in high school, mere days before graduation and marriage, I rescued and painted a small wooden dresser.

I don’t know how many years it had sat neglected in our farm dump, that place through the woods and near the river where we discarded very little. I think it might have come from the labor house, used only during sugar beet and potato harvest.

Nor do I remember what made me notice it, half-buried in trash as it must have been. I remember shoring it up with a few screws. Once I h...

 

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