Tag Archives: projects

Let there be light….

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Bright and early Sunday morning the husband and his friend were hard at it.

Removing the stuffing they’d previously stuffed and drilling holes for the continuous feed wires to slip through.

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This, as you can imagine…. was a royal pain in the  *ss.

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But finally,  it was ready for a light fixture.

And my husband used the pool table as an auxiliary ladder.

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Viola.

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A light fixture.

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Which receives the husband’s very technical and OSHA approved tug test.

Just kidding, OSHA reps run screaming in horror from any project my husband oversees.

More stuffing, more plywood.

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Light fixture number two was not at all cooperative, and adjustments I don’t even want to contemplate were made.

This might be a good time to mention the time my husband installed a ceiling fan in our living room in North Carolina.

It took an electrician 2 hours to undo that mess.

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But after an hour of tinkering, and some oh so colorful language…

Fixture two was up.

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Were the proper amount of decorative screws used?  They were not.

Was it in perfect alignment with the first light fixture?  It was not.

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But since this simple job took them over 5 hours?

I doubt they cared.

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  • For informational purposes only – the husband can not decide whether he wants to put ceiling fans in between the lights or just another light, hence the open middle space.

*Cue the Pointer Sisters*

 

I’m so excited!

We had multiple contractors come over and give us estimates on our exterior barn project… (Staining, trimming, soffiting) and after I picked my jaw up off the ground and cursed the fact we didn’t have any children to sell… we chose a locally owned and operated company.

We’re on their schedule, but I don’t know when they’ll start.

 

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I’m sorry, that was a cruel tease…. and a shameless attempt to lure aged disco fans to my blog.  Please feel free to play Neutron Dance and curse me at your leisure.

Not trusting anyone else to pick out the trim boards, the husband dragged me to a lumber yard…

 

 

Where he closely examined and rejected dozens of 16 footers in the premium grade.

* Note to lumberyard workers – if you see my husband coming? Run. *

He refused so many, I swear the kid who was helping us starting sprouting grey hair.

After the first hour he delicately suggested we upgrade to the finish grade.

Which we did.

 

 

But…. silly boy, did he really think that would make a difference?

It shouldn’t surprise you to learn we were there the entire afternoon. And just when we were ready to leave?

The husband met a fellow Marine.

Another hour later… we left.

It’s amazing how exhausting it is standing around doing nothing. So much so, after we unloaded the truck…

 

 

Does that look like $450 worth of wood to you?

 

 

We fired up the grill….

 

 

And poured the adult beverages.

Dinner that night?

 

 

Lamb chops.

Life is good!

Because I was tired of waiting.

 

Ever since we installed the new deck railings we’ve needed to re-stain the deck. And by we, I mean me… because while he’ll constantly remark it needs to be done? The husband never does it. Not once in 18 years.

 

 

Problem is, we needed to buy a new pressure washer to clean the siding and I didn’t want to stain until that happened.

So I waited. And waited….. and waited some more.

( Never nagging. No. Not me.)

 

 

But after the husband saw the prices of a new Honda pressure washer?

I feel confident saying it’s not happening anytime soon.

So I moved things to the lawn, grabbed my brush and went to work.

 

 

Many  holy hell why is it surface of the sun  hot hours later…

 

 

I was done.

 

 

And pretty pleased with the results.

 

 

Dirty siding aside, it looks nice.

 

 

Clean, fresh and ready for the red squirrel family’s onslaught of poo.

 

 

Next morning fog shot just because.

Just call him Johnny Appleseed.

 

Hope springs eternal, at least for my husband when it comes to trees.

 

 

The three oaks he transplanted a while ago croaked and had to be dug up.

 

 

So when we were in the middle of a drought and a heat wave?

 

 

He figured that would be a great time for us to plant 10 apple trees.

 

 

Holes were dug in ground that felt like cement.

 

 

And I had to run the bucket brigade again.

 

 

Because naturally he wanted to plant them at the far ends of our property.

 

 

But I did find some wild raspberries.

 

 

And blackberries.

 

 

 

It took us all damned day.

 

 

But trees were planted.

 

 

 

The heat was intense and I told him this was the wrong time of year to plant.

 

 

 

But you know how that went.

 

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Will he water and fertilize and care for these new transplants in this mid summer heat wave?

Hell no.

Say goodbye trees, you’re doomed.

 

 

 

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.

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.

 

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.