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Posts Tagged ‘home repair’

I’m tired, I’m sore and I don’t really want to turn this into a home improvement blog, so I won’t write a lengthy thing about how much I loathe painting trim and how you can’t get the taste of wood stain out of your mouth, and how much I hate Home Depot, or doors that are supposed to fit but don’t, or the tedium of doing the little touch ups that you think will take about five minutes, but as you walk around the house you keep finding spots where you missed painting, or got paint on the floor or the light fixture.

Nope.

Helpful hint of the day: When you know you will be applying wood stain to doors, do not attempt to eat an eggplant parmigiana hero with your hands without washing them and, if you do wash them, do not do that with an oil based solvent called Goof Gone.

Doing work on your home is something like an adult version of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Ever read that book? You know, if you give a mouse a cookie, then he will want some milk with it, then he will want a straw….

It’s like that. We started out just wanting to put a brick patio in the backyard. But in order to do that, we had to rip out all the overgrown trees and shrubs that were there, which were covering up a rotted fence, which means we had to put up a new fence and hey, if we were going to put in a patio it sure would be nice to fix up that dead-ish grass that will be next to the patio and really, if we are going to fix up the backyard, we need to fix the lawn and shrubbery in the front of the house and we can’t really have that crappy door on the house when the lawn looks so nice and, well, if we are doing the outside we might as well do the inside so let’s just paint the walls a different color from that blood red and pumpkin orange and if we do that, we might as well get a new rug and then paint the kitchen as well, which means painting the hallway and if we paint the hallway all those doors won’t match which means we need new doors on all the bedrooms and…….

And. You know what? We have done so much shit around here in the last month and we still haven’t put the patio in. The mouse got his straw and milk but he still has no go damn cookie.

Didn’t I just say I wasn’t going to write about this?

Well hell, my brain is fried, my legs are weary and the place on my arm where I got my tetanus shot is sore as hell. Did I mention that my daughter is having 60 of her closest friends over tonight? Thank jeebus it’s going to be nice out. They can just hang out in the patio-less backyard and do whatever it is 60 or so theater geeks will do. I imagine this might involve belting out songs from High School Musical.

Yea, my kid is a geek. I’m happy for that. I won’t be digging empty vodka bottles out of the garbage in the morning or dealing with a phone call from a parent wondering why her daughter came home in someone else’s clothes.

Back in my day, we waited til our parents were on vacation somewhere nice and far away before we threw a party. Our parties were not, like my daughter’s, fueled by pizza and soda and endless listening to a CD where the lead singer always sounds as if he’s about to cry. Our parties were fueled by cheap vodka, Boones Farm wine, mind-altering drugs and a keg of the cheapest beer around (the drinking age was 18 at the time). They ended about three days after they started and clean up involved fishing beer cans out of the pool, cleaning up broken glass and blood and fighting over who would get the puke out of mom’s potted plants.

Either times are different or my daughter is just a hell of a lot different than I was. For which I’m grateful. I’d rather endure the soundtrack to High School Musical for a few hours than stand nervously at the back door with 911 on speed dial, just in case.

Anyhow, neither of those subjects is what I intended to write about today. I was going to review the new Queens of the Stone Age album and when I thought about it last night (sometimes I write posts in my head before I commit them to pixels), it turned into a soliloquy on the entire QOTSA catalog, and I just don’t have the time or mind power to get that down right now.

Then I was going to write something about this thing I read where Kellog’s cereal is doing away with cartoonish mascots and I probably would have said something about Snap, Crackle and Pop having to find new work and how the world never has enough male crack whores, or maybe I was going to make up fake endings to the new Harry Potter book, one of which would involve Hermione, thirty Japanese business men and a spittoon.

I think I huffed too much varnish. Accidentally, of course.

I need to get back to touch-up duty.

I’ll leave you with my favorite QOTSA song of the week.

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power tooling at 6am

I’m sure our neighbors have a love/hate relationship with us right now.

I’ve lived in this house three years. For most of those three years, we did nothing with it. Chalk that up to a lot of factors, including lack of money and an ex-husband who couldn’t let go of the video game controller long enough to swipe a paintbrush across a ceiling or mow the lawn.

Since Todd has moved in, it’s been like one of those house transformation shows. The front yard, the backyard, the interior – it’s a constant stream of renovations around here. I no longer know where one job ends and the other begins.

A couple of the neighbors have made comments on how nice the house looks now. A few of them have complimented Todd on how hard he works around here and how often he works.

There is a downside to that for the neighbors. I am wondering how they feel about the sound of a power sander going off at 7am. Or the sound of an electric saw at 6am. A mower at 7:30. The banging of a hammer at 8am on a Saturday. I also wonder how they feel about a naked guy taking a piss in the backyard on a Sunday morning, but that’s a whole other story.

I like to do all this work too, but I’m always aware that my neighbors might not appreciate our early morning home improvement show. I try to wait until a reasonable hour, but when Todd is in the living room pulling down molding and I’m sitting here on the computer reading blogs, I feel guilty. So I get moving. I try to get down that “fuck the neighbors, let’s get this shit done now” attitude. I’m getting there.

In the past month I have learned how to spackle, how to edge a lawn to perfection and how to do electrical work without getting electrocuted. I have become so good at the home repair thing that when I stepped on a nail Sunday, I just yanked it out of my foot and got back to what I was doing. Though the old guy across the street did hear me yelp and came over to see if I was ok.

Honestly, I think he came over just to check the progress of our work. He’s one of those guys. Old, retired man named Hi with nothing to do except make windmills out of old fans and put them around his backyard. And then come over to our house and stand like a supervisor next to Todd while he works. He’ll throw his opinion in (you should use a different fucking saw for that) or relate a story that really has no relation to what’s going on (one time, I cut off my fucking thumb at a paper mill). He’s a nice guy, but he gets in the way. And he likes to pepper all his sentences with a variant of a fuck. Which is not as bad as the guy who lives behind us, whose vocabulary seems to consist entirely of strings of curses.

One day Todd came home from work, got out of his car and immediately went into the backyard and started working on something. Hi shuffled across the street and said to me “I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as him. He’s a crazy fucker.”

Yea, but he’s my crazy fucker. It’s just about 6:45 am now. He’s in the kitchen doing some last minute spackling before he leaves for work. He’s also yelling instructions to me about removing some light fixtures when I get home. Seeing him so motivated gets me all motivated. We are at the point in home improvement where you can actually see in your mind what the finished product will look like. What starts out feeling like a clusterfuck can, in just four weeks time, morph into a vision of what it will be in a week or so. It’s what keeps you moving, what makes you pound nails at 6am, what makes you go back to Home Depot for the fourth time in a day. The end.

Our house is a damn mess right now. It’s coated with a fine layer of plaster dust and everything is kind of topsy turvy, but it’s like the storm before the calm. We’re almost there.

Tonight, we paint. Oh joy.

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weekends were made for spackling

The great yard/house overhaul continues this weekend. While we wait for the bricks for the new patio to arrive, we’ll be spending our time with spackle and joint compound and drywall and a power sander that reminds me very much of this hand held massage thing I once had. Except the sander couldn’t double as a Personal Pleasure Device(tm). Well, it could. But I ain’t gonna try it.

Now. We need to make a good “home improvement” playlist to listen to while we do all this stuff. Any suggestions?

(On a side note, sometimes I laugh when I put in the tags for each post. Drywall and masturbation. Together at last!)

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