Working with our contractor has ended for now but will resume in a week or two. And God forbid my retired husband should enjoy himself and do something fun. No…
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He’s decided to lay perforated drainage pipe.
You know, the one I told him to lay last year when he installed that drainage box.
Ever since we had the driveway redone last year water has been funneling down to our kitchen landing/porch and in heavy rain we step outside to a river.
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The catch basin was a good idea, but the husband poo poo’d the extra effort involved in laying pipe saying it wasn’t necessary.
After one last ride that almost made him change his mind.
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He bought the bike in 2009, without me knowing because asking forgiveness is easier than asking permission.
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We already had one motorcycle and certainly didn’t need another….
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But his friend Jim’s brother had died and left the bike to Jim who didn’t ride.
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It’s an ‘87 FXLR that was completely stripped down and rebuilt, powder coated, switched from chain to belt, digital instrumentation, extra chrome… custom all the way.
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To the tune of $27,000. We have the paperwork.
Since the owner was a friend who wanted his late brother’s bike to have a good home, my husband purchased it for a quarter of that price.
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Sounds like a great deal but …
(You knew there would be a but.)
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Just because it’s custom doesn’t mean it’s comfortable, which it isn’t. The back seat is tiny… and my derrière is not. I could ride about a half an hour tops, before screaming uncle. And the late brother was a tall man, my husband is not… so shifting was a bit of an uncomfortable stretch.
It’s also a Harley, which means it breaks down frequently. That’s fine if you’re a gear head tinkerer, expensive as Hell if you’re not.
I’ve been squawking about hubby selling it for almost as long as we’ve had it but last weekend, without any prompting from me…. out it went on the front lawn. Miracles do happen.
Of course his asking price is about $3,500 over what it should be… so whether he’s really serious about letting it go is debatable.
Now that the new living room furniture is in place, it was time to start shopping for coffee tables. Ours are old and mismatched and bear too many dings and cat scratches to be serviceable.
After our nightmare replacement of windows, and doors, and floors…. I thought this would be a breeze. I didn’t want anything special, just one rectangle for in front of the couch and two square side tables in a medium wood finish. Drawers or no drawers. Stylish or plain. Traditional or modern.
I was leaving my husband at home… so I knew finding something to please me would be much quicker.
I always enjoyed that. Mostly because I liked posting pictures of myself with a waistline. Ah… those were days.
But a memory popped up on my FB page the other day and I thought it was too fun not to share.
My husband was the second of 9 children. His mother was a mere slip of a woman and I often wondered how she stayed sane. Yes, it was a different era… but that’s still a lot of kids.
All but two were born in Maine as the family moved to a dairy farm in western Connecticut when my husband was 8.
7 of the 9 siblings are in this photo with his mother, the rest are cousins.
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Can you guess which one is my husband?
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 