Discovering the Art of Plastering

My 1950 era concrete block house was built like Fort Knox and had about the same appeal. The lines of blocks, though painted, looked institutional.

To worsen matters, the living room was painted a (dark) ‘Girl Scout’ green, the kitchen a mustard yellow. I paid plasterers to cover the blocks with a smooth off-white plaster in the living room, kitchen, and, later in the bathroom. What a difference! The new plaster made my house look and feel like a French farmhouse.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to do the rest of the house; I had to live with the concrete blocks in the other three rooms. Finally I decided to try my hand at plastering.

I went to the library, but no luck. I called around and couldn’t find anyone locally who sold plaster, let alone who could teach me how to do it. I even drove down the hill to Home Depot. A young man with many earrings in interesting places didn’t know anymore than I did—in fact, by then, I probably knew more than he did. I left with a bag of something; I’m still not sure what to do with it because I don’t think it is plaster. Everywhere I went, I noticed plastered walls, smooth and rough finishes, different techniques, and imagined how they did it.

As I was about to give up, providence lent a hand. I was at a friend’s 50th wedding anniversary, who also knew how to do anything and everything around the house. I commented on the nice plaster job on her ceiling and she mentioned that she’d done it herself. “You know how to plaster?” I gasped. “Well, sure I do!” she answered calmly. “Will you teach me?” I begged.

Days later, we began in my laundry room. We went over mixing, adding color and application. I couldn’t help commenting: “This is just like frosting a cake!” Then my instructor had to run and I was alone with the goop in the bucket, which was quickly drying up.

I remembered an old Jack Benny show where he played fast music so a painter would paint faster. I wished I had some fast music, but I plastered as quickly as I could before it turned to cement. I was on my way.

I discovered Vista Builder’s Supply in Auburn. Owner Dirk Fry helped me select the tools I needed, talked me through the process again, and offered encouragement. I went home and tried by myself. I called Dirk many times to clarify what I was doing. He never acted snarly or condescending, even when he had already explained something the last time we talked.

The most challenging part was the mixing—getting the consistency just right, holding the bucket while I mixed the dry mix into the water and trying to avoid splashing it all over the place. Working quickly, I added the color, (off white with a hint of rose), before the plaster set up in the bucket.

When it was just right, (like frosting again), I had to work quickly to spread it before it hardened. This meant mixing up small batches at a time. I had to stop and start again to cover over the line where I’d just stopped.

I invested in some tools—a pull trowel to spread the plaster, a mixing blade that attached to my drill, a plastic bucket to mix in, and the plaster and color. My materials and tools cost less than $200. My labor was a huge investment, but for a while, just plastered and listened to books on tape. When I did go out, friends got used to the bits of plaster in my hair and under my fingernails.

Months later, I’d finished my laundry room and hallway and was moving through my bedroom. This was the toughest job; I had three big walls to cover. My slow pace meant I had to live with a mess for several weeks. I was determined to complete the job. I enlisted the help of several friends and family members (all women).

I’d tell them—”look, if you can frost a cake, you can plaster.”

I became such a regular at Vista Builder’s Supply that they knew my name and were always interested in a progress report. When I had successfully finished all three rooms, Dirk teased that he wanted to add my name to his list of plasterers. “People are always looking for good plasterers,” he said with a straight face but a twinkle in his eye. “No way, I’m a writer.”

It was slow, challenging, and messy, but in the end, I had gorgeous plastered walls instead of concrete block walls. It was all worth it. I saved money and got the job done.

I would never pretend to be a professional plasterer, but when I walk into my bedroom and see the soft white walls with a hint of rose, I never cease to feel amazed, happy and proud.

I’ve been known to pat them when no one is looking. They’re lovely, and I did it.

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Vista Builder’s Supply • 530-885-3134

1660 Auburn Ravine Road, Auburn