That's right, a hole. In the wall of our entryway. And if any of you know the story of how I met the Master Chef, I know what you're thinking. HOWEVER. I did not create this hole; it was the result of getting a new furnace awhile back. When the furnace was installed they took our old thermostat and humidity thingy off the wall and put in a touch screen deal that does the job of both.
The new thing is awesome and glows when you touch it, but now I had a problem:
Off to the Home Depot, where the Master Chef picked up a patch kit. Inside it had a metal mesh patch, Spackle, sandpaper and a plastic spatula thing that I found is actually called a putty knife.
Then ... the patch kit sat on the counter for about two weeks while I decided whether or not this was something I wanted to attempt. I was pretty sure I could really screw this up and it's right in my entryway, meaning that everyone who walked into my house would see exactly how bad a wall-patcher I was.
I reeeeally wanted to ask the Master Chef to do it. After all, he has experience. But I also wanted to report back and post on how anybody can patch a wall and not biff it up. Sigh. I opened the patch kit and set to work.
The mesh bit had a sticky side and all I had to do was trim it to the size I needed and stick it over the hole. After the simple act of sticking on the mesh, I immediately got pretty cocky and now fully believed that I was the Patch Queen of the Universe.
I grabbed the little tub of spackling with authority and slapped a giant glob onto the putty knife. I very gently and lovingly applied the spackling, just covering the patch.
I checked my instructions, which said to feather the spackle. I decided that meant to make the edges of the patch area very thin so that's what I tried to do.
Hmmm... this is not working like I thought it would. The spackle was now spread over an area twice the size of the patch.
Panic began to set in as I realized that what I had feared before I started this project was coming true. I was messing up my house and making it look crappy. A simple, small hole had turned into the pink wall of shame.
I decided that the best thing to do was walk away from it and perhaps when I returned it wouldn't look so bad. I also needed some reassurance that I can actually do something right and went outside to admire my flower basket and breathe deeply for a few minutes.
Ahhh! Much better.
I walked back over to the patched area with a renewed confidence and... Hey! Is that... fingerprints?
T Bub had saw my pretty pink mess and poked it. Surprised that his finger had left a big dent in the drying spackling, he tried to fix it. And created more fingerprint craters.
I walked outside to take a few more deep breaths. Then, with every ounce of patience I had left, I faced the wall.
This is on, wall.
I used my finger and gently smoothed out the fingerprints and deep lines in the spackling. As it dried it turned from pink to white, so I tried sanding the white edges. Not. Too. Bad.
I left it to finish drying overnight, then went to work sanding.
I began to very cautiously have hope that this might not turn into a total fail after all. Sanding the spackling smoothed all the bumps out but left sanding dust all over my floor. Turns out, sanding is VERY messy. But then again, so are most of the projects I get my hands on.
Also, please ignore the 80's tile. Once I work up the nerve, I'll get around to tearing it out and putting in new. Someday. Because right now I'm still recovering from thinking that I biffed up the entryway wall. Even though I didn't.
After I sanded it until it felt smooth and seamless with the wall, all that was left was painting it.
DANG! I really am the Patch Queen of the Universe.
And I proved that anybody can patch a wall and not biff it up. Even me. ; )