Tag Archives: marriage

He shouldn’t be happy, but he was.

 

He shouldn’t be happy we had high winds that brought down part of our choke cherry tree two nights ago.

 

 

He shouldn’t be happy.

 

 

But you know he was.

 

 

Because as soon as the sun came up?

 

 

He was out there.

 

 

Trimming weight.

 

 

Anxious for the fun to begin.

 

 

Ready!

 

 

 

You know he’s been itching to cut something down.

 

 

So he was one happy camper.

 

 

It had to be done, but when he started eyeing the rest of the tree?

I threw myself in front of it to save the poor thing from total annihilation.

 

 

And then there was a floor.

 

Life got in the way of the baby barn floor project for a while, but as soon as the temperatures reached the 90’s again? The husband dragged me back out there.

 

 

Zip boards were laid.

 

 

Walked on.

 

 

Pondered over.

 

 

And taken back up.

 

 

But you’ll be happy to know no toads were hurt during this process.

 

 

The pondering continued for quite a while.

 

 

And yes, coverage was less than perfect.

 

 

But the jigsaw puzzle neared completion.

 

 

And mowers were returned to their home…

 

 

As was the generator we bought 30 years ago, used twice and costs us more than it’s worth to repair every few years because someone just knows we’ll need it eventually.

 

 

Of course the installation of said floor raised the level above ground a wee bit.

 

 

So dirt that was hauled to the far reaches of the property had to be returned.

 

 

But by the end of the day it was done and items were stored away.

Until the husband realized he’d forgotten to lay the rubber mats.

We had 4.

I told him we needed at least 4 more and they’d have to be cut to fit.

 

 

Which is when he took everything out of the barn, laid 4 mats in the middle and called it good.

 

 

King of half assed projects, that’s my man.

And then there was wood.

But you probably guessed that from the first picture.

 

More specifically it was 16 foot long boards that weighed a ton and had to be dragged out of the big barn and across the lawn with yours truly trying my best not to drop them on her toes.

 

 

Of course it would have been too easy if they’d fit in the 16 foot long spaces. Where’s the fun in that? No… each one had to be measured and cut around the wonky interior frame.

 

 

After tar paper was laid out.

Why tar paper? Because the husband wanted a moisture barrier… but more importantly, because he already had two ancient rolls buried in the garage.

 

 

What was holding down the tar paper as we attempted to fit the boards you ask?

Absolutely nothing.

Good times.

 

 

Was it hot?

A mere 92 degrees in the shade.

 

 

Vintage tools and make shift tables?

Check.

 

 

Did he have enough boards?

Not really.

 

 

Were they all the same width?

Of course not.

 

 

Did he care?

I seriously doubt it.

 

I thought we were done!

 

The baby barn.

It really is the gift that keeps on giving. Like venereal disease, but with splinters.

As you know, the baby barn had a hard packed dirt floor when we remodeled it. It had a hard packed dirt floor when we moved here 18 years ago and it had a hard packed dirt floor when it was originally built sometime in the mid 1970’s …

 

 

And for some inexplicable reason, the husband removed some of that hard packed dirt when he was redoing the frame.

 

 

So for the last few months there’s been a decided drop off at the far end.

 

 

I’ve said repeatedly he needed to back fill that section and level it off, but no.

 

 

I walked out there the other day and found him busy with a shovel instead.

 

 

Removing 26 years worth of hard packed dirt.

 

 

Why?

I’ll let him tell you…

 

 

Good grief Charlie Brown!

The man is a sucker for punishment.

 

 

22 wheelbarrow loads full of dirt dumped on the outer edges of our property line later….

 

 

He had a smooth playing field…. and an aching back.

And I was called in to assist.

 

We don’t need no stinkin’ downspout!

 

Or so my husband said when we were redoing the deck railings.

He took the old one down and elected not to put it back up.

Why?

Oh, he mumbled something about tearing down all the old gutters and replacing them, but honestly I think he just didn’t want to mess with it. Which was fine, until rain was in the forecast and I told him it might be a good idea to put it back up.

Life would be so much easier if he listened to me…. but no.

So, it rained.

 

 

Not a lot, but enough so we had a torrent of water flooding the garden bed and sloshing mulch and dirt everywhere.

I didn’t say a word… though I might have smirked.

I mean really. How could I not?

 

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So out he went, poor guy.

 

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And naturally the downspout didn’t pop back on as easily as it came off.

Numerous adjustments were made.

 

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With a hammer and some colorful language.

By the time he was done, he was soaked and the spout was screwed. Literally and figuratively…. because he broke a piece and had to Jerry rig it.

Now wouldn’t this have been easier…. not to mention drier…. if he had just listened to me in the first place?

Men.

You never learn.

Kitchen aerobics.

 

I’m beginning to get used to having the husband work from home.

Yes, it’s a little annoying trying to tiptoe around the house and be quiet all day long…. but there are distinct advantages.

Advantage #1?

It’s harder for him to avoid the honey do list that’s been growing exponentially since we moved in 18 years ago.

No more long commutes from the office, no more grumpy, tired of fighting I-95 traffic on the way home husband.

When he clocks out? I can grab him.

This week it was for blind installation in the kitchen.

 

 

Which in the tight space over the sink wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

 

 

He got quite a workout.

 

 

Take that Jane Fonda.

 

 

As the hours wore on ( what… you thought it would be minutes? ) the brackets wouldn’t mount properly, and when they did, the blinds wouldn’t click into place.

 

 

Serious thought went into why they crashed to the ground every time you pulled them down.

 

 

Non OSHA approved climbing apparatus was used.

 

 

And curtain rod mounts had to be removed, reinstalled, removed, repositioned, removed again and yes, cursed. Repeatedly.

Want to frustrate your husband? Forget withholding sex…. make him hang curtains.

But finally it was done.

 

 

They moved up and down and stayed there.

 

 

If you’ve never tried this kind of blind, I highly recommend them. They’re attractive and block the hot sun while allowing filtered light to shine through.

 

 

And if you need some installed? Let me know.

I’m sure the husband is anxious to do a few more.

Why do they never listen?

 

Yes men, I’m talking about you.

Remember the tree planting miracle I posted about a while ago? When the husband dug up and transplanted 3 maple trees to the far corners of our backyard?

 

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Yes, the ones I had to water everyday because we were entering drought conditions.

Well, that stopped when I broke my toe and I told the other half he’d have to take over the job if he wanted his trees to survive.

Water every day I told him.

Which is what I did, religiously, with his little patch of grass seed next to the baby barn.

Under my watchful eye the seed sprouted…

 

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And is now green…

 

 

Thick and lush.

The trees?

That the husband didn’t bother to water because of course I don’t know what I’m talking about…..

 

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Not so much.

 

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After brown?

 

 

Came bare twig.

 

 

If only he’d listened to his wife…

 

 

 

Another project?

 

My husband surprised me the other day with new gutters.

 

 

Yes…. some women get diamonds, I get downspouts.

But these had been a long time coming and after nearly being bludgeoned by icicles from water running off the garage last winter?

 

 

It was time.

 

 

I had other things to do that day but husband asked me to help for 30 minutes because he said that’s all it would take.

Silly, silly man.

 

 

The first section went up easily.

Too easily as it turns out….

 

 

 

Which the hose test proved.

It leaked.

 

 

I was then directed to a different spot, which also leaked.

Vowing to fix it later, the husband moved on, installed 2 more sections and then needed an end cap.

 

 

Which I now believe are the work of the devil.

 

 

One of these should have fit on the end of that piece to block the water.

Please note my use of the word should.

 

 

Adjustments were made.

 

 

Then larger adjustments.

 

 

Some of them not at all subtle.

 

 

But it worked.

Of course we were still left with the leaking problem on the first section. And after much discussion, it was decided the shingles on the non leaking end…

 

 

Over hung the roof a fraction of an inch further…

 

 

Than the shingles on the leaking end. And there’s not much you can do about that.

My solution?

Caulk it!

But the husband hates caulk so we spent the next 3 hours, yes… 3 hours….. trying to find a solution.

 

 

Little pieces of white plastic were cut to sit on the top of the clips and divert the flow.

 

 

But it didn’t work.

 

 

Long pieces of clear plastic were sought.

 

 

And carefully cut into strips to tuck under the flashing.

 

 

But still, it leaked.

 

 

Numerous ladder safety warnings were ignored during this process.

 

 

And still, it leaked.

Late in the afternoon, after spending way too much time on a half hour project….

The husband surrendered.

 

 

It’s raining as I write this…. and guess what?

No leaks.

 

Things there are no explanation for.

 

  1.    The grill cover that came with our new grill.

 

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Mind you, it’s custom made for this particular grill so it’s not a matter of fit.

So why on earth would a cover, that’s ostensibly used to protect the metal from the elements, have an opening of netted mesh where the metal controls are located?

Why?

2.    Mexican toilet paper.

 

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I live in Maine, which is as far as you can get from Mexico and still be in the United States….

 

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So why were these the only brands available on the grocery store shelf this week?

Why?

3.    Why is there a squirrel on top of my bicycle in the garage?

 

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If your answer is  “You don’t ride it, so why shouldn’t he?” that’s technically correct, but doesn’t explain how he got in the garage or why he wouldn’t rather use that special car wash broom attachment my husband had to have but never used instead. He had to walk past 2 dirty cars to find the bicycle…. and that’s just rude.

Why?

4.  Why is there coffee all over my kitchen cabinets?

 

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Not the lower cabinets mind you, where I could understand a little spillage…. but the upper. Did Micheal J. Fox sneak in for a cuppa while I wasn’t looking? Was the husband gettin’ jiggy with it while I was in the shower?

I don’t drink coffee, so no. I didn’t catch a glimpse of a bare chested Jason Momoa on the television and have a muscle spasm.

 

images

Photo for reference purposes only.

Really.

And to think it only took me an hour to choose that particular shot. 😈

 

So…. why?

If you can explain any of these unexplainable circumstances, I’d be most grateful.

Project finale.

 

Railing installation on the last section of deck required measuring.

 

 

So much measuring.

 

 

I figured 16 balustrades, at 5 1/2 inches apart.

 

 

Which the husband started to implement and then chose to ignore.

 

 

Why did he change the spacing?

I have no idea.

 

 

But he continued on his path.

 

 

And shockingly, something was off.

 

 

There he is with the little level again.

Silly man, didn’t he learn anything from the baby barn?

 

 

When he reached the end? He had too much room to leave it open, but not enough room to evenly space a rail.

 

 

So he jammed one in anyway, because at that point he didn’t care.

I did, but managed to swallow my criticism. It was done, and looked a damn sight better than it used to.

Before:

 

 

After:

 

 

Before:

 

 

After:

 

 

I’m pleased with it, as long as I don’t focus on symmetry.

 

 

It’s a cleaner, more modern look.

 

 

But now I can’t decide if the white lattice panel should stay or go.

Guess that can wait till I restain the deck.