The stars aligned and the heavens smiled last night as The Film Geek and I actually worked together on a home project and didn't kill each other. The sound you hear is angels singing in astonishment and pure joy. We do not have a good track record, you see, although we've really been making an effort to get better. We know why we work so badly together, we just haven't been able to do much about it. I'll explain it all and then maybe someone can provide some words of wisdom. God knows we need help.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
First off is the good news. We managed to do most of the work to rescreen the sun porch last night, just in time for the storms we're expecting today. The sun porch is reached through a sliding glass door in the kitchen, so when the slider is open the air flow is wonderful. Since most of these storms come with high winds, it really cools off the house fast, besides just feeling good. The problem we had is the the college boys who lived here before had torn the screens, so bugs and animals and such would get on the sun porch. Obviously we didn't want them in the kitchen so the slider had to stay closed. And said bugs and small animals made sitting on the sun porch less than desirable. The dogs didn't help matters, since they would just use the holes in the screens as a shortcut to the back yard. Dee Dee in particular, being built like a walrus, is always up for a shortcut.
So The Film Geek took off the old screens and pieces of wood holding them on, and then we hung new screening and staple gunned it in and replaced the wood. I pounded nails out of wood and held screening and fetched things he needed while he was up on the ladder. It went without a hitch, really. Well, one hitch. While I was in the kitchen finishing dinner, I heard my husband yell "Oh, no she did NOT!!", while chasing walrus dog around the yard. Seems she had seen or heard a dog walking by and headed out to the yard to stake her turf - straight through the eight foot screen panel we had just hung. Dear lord, this dog is dumber then dirt, and if the kids didn't love her so much I'd arrange an accident for her. If she goes through the screen again I just may anyway. I don't suppose anyone is in the market for a two hundred pound black lab with more than a touch of borderline personality disorder and an insatiable need to lick the furniture? She's good with kids - really. First one to email me can have her. Or better still, for faster delivery, just call me. Please. I'm begging.
The problem my husband and I have is that we have very different styles in terms of home projects. Take painting for instance. He can happily spend a week prepping a room to paint. He patches, putties, sands, scrapes, takes a peek, fondles the walls, repatches, reputties, resands, rescrapes and then repeeks and refondles. Repeat this loop a minimum of three times. Then we get to the actual painting part. We start with freshly washed walls (the only part of this whole process that he feels I'm competent to handle, but he still watches to make sure I put the proper amount of TSP in the water). Then he tapes, retapes, sleeps on it for a night or two and then finally begins to put the actual paint on the wall. Gimme an A, gimme an N, gimme an A, gimme an L - what's that spell? Film Geek!
His complaint with me is that he considers me sloppy in my work. That I can paint a room in an afternoon worries him deeply, since it obviously means I've done a half-assed job. I have literally had the man take the roller out of my hand to "fix" one of my "mistakes" to his satisfaction. I defy anyone to look at any of our rooms and tell me who painted which one. He does not see it this way and that's all I'm going to say about that. While he's gone this weekend I'm planning on painting the computer room and he knows it. He's got a little twitch right above his left eye and I don't care. I'd like this room painted before Christmas. 2009.
Stay tuned for updates as they unfold. And I really am serious about the dog. Call me. Please.