Tag Archives: men

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Be careful what you wish for….

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As I mentioned a while back, my husband purchased a new weed whacker. He’s always had great big gas powered things, but with the ethanol additives in fuel and our cold winters it seems they’re always breaking down and dying.

This time around he went battery operated because he bought this brand’s battery hedge trimmer last year and loved it.

Naturally, he put it together in the living room… because that’s what one does.

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Excited to try his new toy, upon completion he took it outside and starting whacking the first thing he saw… grass along the edge of our garage.

You know, the section you see immediately upon exiting our kitchen door.

Apparently my spouse did not realize the power of his new tool because…

This happened.

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Yup.

He weed whacked a nice long strip of the vinyl siding.

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Ain’t that just ducky?

😩

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My Planet.. the end.

40 Comments

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A few more chuckles from Mary Roach before I put this book to bed.

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My husband does not moisturize, though at times I wish he would.

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As you know I have a spouse who enjoys filling our kitchen with overpriced gadgets…. so I totally get this. Though thankfully no $345 pentolas have crossed our doorstep.

Yet.

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Touchless trash cans with sensor eyes? Please don’t tell my husband.

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Preach sister! My spouse never ever uses coins but has them stashed everywhere. In the den closet, in every vehicle cubbyhole, and yes in jars on the bedroom floor.

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Though he prefers pickle to sauerkraut.

🥴

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Because nothing ever goes smoothly when my husband is involved.

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With the hope that it will rain on our property sometime in this decade, my husband purchased gutters for our baby barn/shed and I attempted to help with the installation.

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Since the project was my husband’s idea and he was in charge of purchasing supplies, this meant 3 forty minute round trips to Lowes and half the day wasted because he thinks making a list is a waste of time.

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Did he buy the right size screws?

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He did not.

Did he buy the correct downspout brackets?

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He did not.

Did he buy a new section of downspout because the piece he had leftover from a previous project was too short?

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I think you know the answer to that.

🥴

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Stone garden border project day 3… aggravated husband day 3.

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Work is slowly progressing on my soon to be fabulous backyard perennial garden border.

Whether my marriage will survive it is another matter entirely.

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I’m not sure why my husband has chosen to take every single little thing I say about this endeavor as a slight, an insult or God forbid…. a question of his manly ability, but he has.

I go out and try to help, but somehow everything I do just ends up pissing him off. He’s sucking the joy out of the process with his attitude and moodiness, but I will not let him ruin it.

I will not.

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If you remember, I advised we buy at least two pallets of stone back at the start. I knew we would need at least two full pallets, but no. My husband knew better and we bought one.

So when he reached the end of pallet number one and wasn’t anywhere near finished?

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He was less than pleased to admit we needed the second pallet I had wanted since the beginning and grumbled that I was gloating.

Me?

No. That would never happen.

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Shopping for a gift in the basement.

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We love our local. It’s not a fancy place just a small rustic pub where, like Cheers… everyone really does know your name. The business is owned by two men… one cook, one bartender and I’m sure it would come as no surprise to either that their decor leaves a bit to be desired. The building is old, built at the turn of the century and the pub room is entirely wood. The few decorative items displayed are vintage Maine… an old sled, some snowshoes etc. A year ago I framed a collection of antique postcards of the town as a gift. Since then my husband has been sputtering about donating something as well. So…

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We went shopping. In the basement. I avoid this part of our house like the plague due to the mess, the clutter and the absolute lack of organization. Truth be told I start twitching after even limited exposure… but I endured, for the pub’s sake.

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The husband was all for giving them random junk but I said no. It had to be something Maine… or at least bar related.

This is what I chose:

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A nice pair of vintage wooden skis.

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And an antique wooden whisky crate. Perfect… right?

Wrong.

As I was cleaning the cobwebs and wiping off years of accumulated dust, the husband looked up the items online. Wooden skis in good shape can fetch a premium price in Maine as summer people like to decorate their vacation homes and cabins, so when he found a similar pair listed for $550? He changed his mind about letting them go. The crate? $55-70 … so it went in his I may sell this at a flea market pile.

Sorry local pub, no gifts for you today.

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These are sure to start a bidding war.

30 Comments

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I stepped outside to this a while back.

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Because when the husband disappears outside for long periods of time with no contact? I know something is being torn apart.

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This time it was the woodshed, which over the years has become an outdoor repository for everything I want to get rid of but he’s determined to keep. This includes a large amount of bricks, mismatched pavers and random blocks.

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Which he started stacking until he came across a batch of tapered arch building bricks left over from the previous owner. Yes, they’ve been there for 20 years because my spouse is a hoarder and you never know when you’ll need to build an arch.

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He moved them to front of our garage and I rejoiced, thinking the next step would be the dump. I was wrong.

After looking them up online and seeing that new tapered arch bricks sell for $6 a piece … he made me list them for sale. 40 (and 1/2 because he wouldn’t even throw out the broken one) used, dirty, slightly mortared bricks – $80.

It should come as no surprise that after 12 days we have had no offers.

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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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Bonk… part 4.

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You know the drill. The following excerpts are from a Mary Roach book about sex. You have been warned…

While Viagra is a relatively new treatment, cures for male impotence have been around for a long time. Two testicles not getting the job done? No problem, just get yourself a third.

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Yes, they really did have an add a testicle procedure, though it was not without its issues.

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Ponder that for a moment.

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Feel free to whip up that cocktail at your next dinner party. Gin, orange juice, grenadine and absinthe. Not sure what that recipe has to do with the family jewels, but I’m sure it will be a hit all the same.

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If that’s not trivia to impress your friends, I don’t know what is.

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Sodomization does seem a trifle extreme for pilfering a tomato, but clearly the Romans took their gardens more seriously than I do.

( If you want a good giggle? Do a Google image search on Priapus. That is one massive cucumber. 😳 )

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Please, just finish something.

25 Comments

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You’d think with all the free time my husband has since retiring projects would be finished in no time flat. Hell, 10 years ago he built a two story barn on nights and weekends when working full time, but now that there’s nothing definite on the schedule? Everything gets started and nothing gets finished…. which drives me absolutely insane.

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Last week he started redoing the back yard stone wall.

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He squared one corner and then stopped, leaving my rose bush dangling precariously.

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It’s hard to tell from the photo but the rose that our neighbor gave me in honor of my mother when she passed, the one that’s bloomed beautifully for years… now has a channel of air on the right side where the dirt and mulch used to be. I keep threatening to fill it back in but the husband hollers he’s not done with the wall.

So finish it!

We have a small home office with two desks. Mine is free and clear and organized, his? Not so much.

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It’s cluttered with stamps he started identifying, first day issues he started researching, price tags for a yard sale he’ll never get around to having, random old coins and airworthiness directives from a job where he is no longer employed. And while I try to ignore that mess, it’s a bit harder to ignore this one –

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The strategically placed pile of boxes, bags and packing material that accompanied the multiple loads of crap he belched up from the cellar two months ago. He says he’s still sorting and going through them, but he’s not and probably never will.

Sigh.

I’m too type A to work this way. I start something, I see it through and move on. It really makes me wonder how I’ve let him live this long…

🤣

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