Tag Archives: marriage

Stone garden border project… day 2, disagreement 2.

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I was helping.

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In so far as the husband would let me help… with what was my idea to begin with. That’s usually how things go at Casa River. I want to do something and come up with a plan… then the husband gets involved and does it completely his way.

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Granted he knows more about stone wall building… but I had a vision ya know?

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I like weird looking rocks, like this bird’s head skeleton I placed in the corner ….

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And these two that look like ham steaks. I wanted them prominently placed to give the border some quirk and character.

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So of course the husband moved all three and buried them. When I said something? He got ticked off and told me I can let him build it or hire someone else to do exactly what I want… and believe me that’s tempting.

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I love my husband. I do. He’s a wonderful man. But it would be nice if we could a work project together… in harmony, like we used to. Whether it’s male menopause, adjusting to retired life or basic old man crankiness .. lately he tests my patience to the point where I just have to walk away. Why must every difference of opinion turn into a fight? It’s exhausting.

Do you work well with your spouse/significant other. Or do you have to take a hike as well?

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Stone garden border project… day 1, disagreement 1.

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Work began on the perennial bed stone border recently… though not without incident.

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The existing bed measured 10×20… and when I first discussed the project with my husband I told him I wanted to expand it by at least 4 feet due to the apple tree that took up residence a decade ago. He heard me, but clearly didn’t care.

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Because when I looked outside the other day and saw him staking off level lines at the edge of the dirt… I said something.

Big mistake.

Huge.

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He heatedly explained the stone needed to be laid on flat earth and if I wanted him to do it, they would be laid inside the bed border. Period. End of discussion. Numerous hours of anger to follow.

Ladies? Never doubt the existence of male menopausal mood swings. They’re real.

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His way means I lose a good foot on every side, making my garden bed 4 foot smaller instead of larger. Not what I wanted. Not what I’d planned.

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But apparently what I’m getting.

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It’s hard to argue when I’m clearly not the one doing the majority of work. And I’m sure it will be lovely when completed…

But it would be nice if just once, we could come to an agreement without acrimony.

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In which we discover how truly anal I am.

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I have a large collection of vintage vinyl albums. It used to number close to 800, but I made the mistake of storing a large portion of them in my MIL’s attic years ago between moves and a leaky roof cut my collection in half. Today, after culling… it’s slightly over 350, and though they’ve been housed in plastic crates for the past 20 years, I recently decided they should be relocated to the man cave in vintage wooden beer or whiskey crates.

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Did I mention my albums are organized alphabetically?

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The Dewar’s scotch crate that I liberated from the husband’s stash (because if he’s not going to give it to the pub, he can give it to me) has A-B.

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When I pick up a few replacements here and there at flea markets?

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Adjustments must be made.

Pickwick Ale?

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C, D, E and F.

Those were the only two alcohol related crates my husband had in his crap treasure filled cellar, so I guess I’ll have to go antique shopping for G through Z.

😉

Bad timing.

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When a storm is moving in and thunderstorms are threatening? That’s when my husband decides it’s a good time to start installing a barn gutter and downspout.

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How close was the storm?

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Basically right overhead.

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So when the sky opened up and rain started pouring down? There was only one thing to do…

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Pour an adult beverage and watch it fall.

🤣

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Rockin’ and slowly rollin’.

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We took a short break for lunch after getting the first half of stone stacked at home and then headed back out for the rest.

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Me.

Dirty, hot, and sweaty but smiling ear to ear because I was surrounded by rocks.

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While the yard man was picking up the second half of our stones with the forklift, my husband met a Marine. And if that wasn’t bad enough… he was also a fellow Vietnam Veteran. Much talking ensued. Sooo much talking. By the time they were done gabbing and ready to spread the rocks in the truck bed, the husband decided he didn’t want to go to the extra trouble and told the kid to just set it down as is.

I disagreed. Vocally and quite loudly. Naturally, I was ignored. I lamented hurting his new (old as dirt) truck and kept saying it wasn’t worth the risk of straining the engine and suspension. For that? I got ‘the look’. You know the one, the “how dare you question my manly logic?” look.

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We drove the 25 odd miles home on the back roads at 30mph with a squatted rear end and an overheating engine. The truck strained big time and we realized this second load was much closer to 2,000 lbs than the 1,500 we thought. 5 miles from home the temperature gauge was pegging out. I begged him to stop, but no. I swear at that point he would rather have blown his engine than admit I was right.

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We made it home, barely. With a smoking hood and a radiator that was literally boiling. I could hear it… he couldn’t (because he’s half deaf in one ear, thank you USMC) ergo it wasn’t happening.

Men!

You really are a ridiculous species.

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As the truck temperature came down from surface of the sun hot, we got back to work…

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And made a lovely little pyramid of stone. We’re definitely going to need another pallet or two to complete my vision of the perfect garden border. He says no, but trust me this is nowhere near enough.

Can’t say that I’m looking forward to another trip like that though.

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So we bought some rocks.

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After a full day of shopping for rocks…. the sheer joy of it made my heart sing!…. a decision was made and we returned the next day to make our purchase.

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I tried unsuccessfully to talk the husband into a few prime boulders…

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But settled for a pallet of fieldstone. Rule #1 of working with stone? If someone agrees to build you a garden border… don’t push your luck.

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Because the husband’s new (read – old as dirt) truck only has a a half ton capacity and a pallet weighs 3,000 lbs… I wanted to have the stone delivered. But the fee was $150 so my thrifty spouse wanted no part of that. The compromise? Split open the wire, divide the bundle and spread half the weight in the bed.

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This was hot, dirty work but we made the first trip home safely.

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And then stacked the rocks in the garden they’ll be bordering.

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1,500lbs of stone seems like a lot more when you have to keep moving them.

To be continued…

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Rocks. Glorious rocks!

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It has begun.

The search for rocks to build a new border for my defunct perennial bed is underway and I can’t tell you how thrilled I am.

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We went shopping…

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For rocks!

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Did I mention the aforementioned rocks are not cheap? Many rocks will be needed for this project so we drove around all day to multiple yards to compare prices.

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So.

Many.

Rocks!

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I think I died and went to heaven right on that spot.

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This will be our border. 1-3” fieldstone. 3,000 lbs a pallet.. and at $458 per it was the cheapest we found. The bed is 10’x20’ … I say we’ll need two pallets , maybe 3 for a finished bed border… the husband says we’ll start with one.

Silly man. Doesn’t he know you can never have too many rocks?

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I used to have a garden.

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I used to have a beautiful perennial garden in our back yard. It was a lovely little brick bordered bed and over the years I filled it with a varied assortment of colorful flowers.

There was purple lupine.

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The harder to grow white lupine.

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And some fabulous red bee balm.

A few years in, a little apple tree seeded itself and since I didn’t have the heart to pull it up… it grew happily alongside the phlox, black eyed Susans and Shasta daisies.

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My garden made a wonderful foreground in photos of the big barn construction progress.

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And I had many happy years of bright blooms and vases full of freshly cut flowers.

Until my husband bought the beast.

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The monster zero turn lawn mower that flings grass clippings and weeds what seems like 100 miles. No matter how many times I begged him to reverse direction and steer clear, over the years my bed was overtaken by weeds. No matter how many of the damn things I pulled, dug up or chopped… I couldn’t contain the growth and they slowly started choking out my flowers.

By 2019 I gave up.

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I bought numerous bags of mulch.

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Weed whacked everything down to ground level…

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And covered the whole thing, leaving only the tree. And while I missed my riotous blooms, the aesthetic was pleasing enough to satisfy.

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Of course the husband and his big orange beast kept throwing grass in the bed so I kept getting down on my hands and knees to weed. Until I blew out my knee in the fall of 2020 and could no longer crouch or kneel without considerable pain.

So I gave up again, and now? It looks like this.

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A large brick bordered bed of weeds. It disgusts me on a daily basis but I vowed not to touch it again until a new, taller stone border could be built. And now that the husband is retired with nothing but time on his hands….?

To be continued….

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I love popcorn as much as the next girl…

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A good movie and bucket of popcorn dripping in melted butter makes me happy. A popcorn engagement ring? Not so much….

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My engagement ring… bought after we were married because we like to do things backwards…reflects a 38 year old paycheck and while fine quality, it isn’t even a carat. So 3.66? Sure. Sign me up.

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But a diamond that’s shaped and colored like buttered popcorn?

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That’s a hard pass from me.

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It’s a blogging miracle.

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A project was just finished at Casa River.

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Without a word of nagging or litany of snarky comments from yours truly.

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Yes boys and girls, somewhere in Maine pigs are flying.

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Because the backyard stone wall rebuild is finished… and the only reason I can give is the fact that I blogged about it.

So if you sent positive completion waves and good juju? I thank you.

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As does Lord Dudley for the fresh patch of rolling dirt. And if finishing a project he started in less than a year wasn’t shocking enough?

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I came home a few days later to a freshly laid patch of sod. Which he hasn’t watered once, but hey…. one miracle at a time.

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