springfield photoblog

I was naive enough not to realize that having one of these big old shingle-style behemoths painted could cost a five-figure sum until after we'd signed the mortgage. Silly me. So now we're collaring neighbors trying to get the name of one of those painters who do a decent job for under $10K.

My parents managed to snag the elusive Billy Kelly, a man so in demand that he doesn't even bother having a listed phone number. With Billy you get the whole brogue-and-ballad package if he actually agrees to paint your house, but you have to be willing to wait. His truck is going to be parked in front of a lot of other people's houses before he gets around to yours. My mother plied him with stew and soda bread for ages before he actually turned up with brushes and a ladder, and then she blasted the Irish Rovers tapes on her boom box to keep him coming back, along with the stew. The competition is brutal.

I bet Mr. Peppin is still out there, but he stopped doing exteriors when he turned 70.