We woke Saturday morning trying to laugh at how horrible the day before had been. It was a definite nightmare, but the sun was shining, the birds were singing and we had new leather chairs to unpack!
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We also had large tracks torn in our lawn from our friend’s giant diesel truck. Of course it had to rain while we were gone the night before, making the ground nice and slippery when he backed up to the porch. 😬
Oh well, out to the barn we went to unwrap the chairs. These chairs… the pretty caramel colored ones we picked out at the store.
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And when we unwrapped the first one?
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It was the wrong color. And had no legs. WTF??? I was livid. After all we went through to get the damn things! I was even pissed off at the tag…
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Real natural? As opposed to what…. fake natural, or real pleather?
I was sputtering and reaching for my phone to call the store and pitch a fit when the husband decided he liked the wrong color and wanted to keep them. Which meant one of two things… he didn’t want to hear me bitch and rant or the thought of waiting another 2 months for replacements and going through the whole warehouse trip again was simply too much.
Either way, he wanted them. And though I wasn’t happy with the much darker color, sometimes I have to remember it’s his man cave and he should be allowed to choose something every now and then. (not that I’ll make a habit of that mind you) But we still had to deal with the no legs issue. We searched the boxes and the wrappings and under the cushions. Nothing. I was getting ready to call the store again and pitch a fit when the husband noticed a string hanging under the second chair.
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There was a zippered compartment under each chair with a box of legs. Clever. But I have to wonder how many other clueless customers search in vain.
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Pieces and parts. And a few hammer shots later…
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I read another tag.
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Our leather chairs are going to have zits and mosquito bites? WTH.
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So there they are. In all their too damned dark glory.
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Husband is happy, and I have to admit they’re very comfortable. But I’m thinking a few strategically placed throw pillows will go a long way to pull it altogether.
I just realized I haven’t posted a photo of the big barn since the staining and painting were completed.
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Needless to say I’m very pleased.
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The nice thing is, the husband was pleased as well.
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I know this because I overheard him talking to the painter saying he wasn’t sure he would like a red barn and that he’d fought his wife over it… boy did he!… but in the end, even he had to admit it looked great.
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Technically it’s not totally done, as the crew is going to box in the eaves on the overhang. But in Maine, you have to paint until the weather turns, so they’ll be back another day to finish that.
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My porch furniture cushions also need to be recovered in a fabric that doesn’t clash.
We chose a local company and our big barn will finally get some color in his cheeks.
An oil based stain was matched to baby barn’s red paint… and white trim will finish him off.
I’ve been waiting 8 years for this… so, yay.
The painters showed up the other day to pressure wash off the black mold. They thought this would be a quick prep, saying it would only take a few hours.
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10 gallons of bleach, one broken pressure washer, an auxiliary pump and 8 hours later…
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They recalculated and said they wouldn’t be able to get it all off as promised.
Which we told them would be the case, as we’d tried ourselves and failed.
But they got a lot more than we managed, and it looks better.
Before :
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After:
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Before:
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After:
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Before:
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After:
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Of course they had to move all the trim wood we’d bought to do the porch, so this is now my afternoon cocktail view.
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Not ideal.
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But hopefully it’s more temporary than my husband’s so called temporary doors.
Looking across the street to our neighbor’s organic vegetable farm is always interesting.
But this time of year, it’s downright beautiful.
Who knew artichokes could be so pretty?
And when our neighbor has wood chips delivered….
HE HAS WOODCHIPS DELIVERED.
When you’re a farmer’s child?
You don’t need no stinkin’ sandbox.
On the critter front,
We’re down to one lone woodchuck.
He’s still fat…
And still clumsy…
And still hangs out on our deck once in a while. But it’s autumn, and all his brothers and sisters are finding dens and getting ready for winter. I doubt even this one will be here much longer.
Sigh…
Autumn also means the deer are changing into their darker winter coats. One summer coated hold out is on the right for comparison.
A murder of crows have now discovered our bird bath.
Why are they called a murder?
The Oxford English Dictionary suggests this is an allusion to the crow’s traditional association with violent death or its harsh and raucous cry. If you’ve ever heard dozens of agitated crows in full cry, it really does sound as if they’re yelling bloody murder.
As long as they don’t murder me in my sleep, I don’t care what you call them.
Uh oh.
And finally, we have a new skunk in town.
I admit I never really paid attention to skunk tails before, but we’ve had so many different families this year I’ve gotten to recognize them by their individual patterns.
This is Tippy.
Brilliantly named for the white tip on her tail.
Is she really a she?
I neither know, nor care to get close enough to find out.
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.