It’s been awhile since my husband and I worked as a team to accomplish a goal. Actually, pre-reduction-of-medication, I had a lackluster attitude toward doing anything. It’s not like I have more energy, I just stick to a plan.
This past week, we worked on that little house in Nowhere, Missouri. We decided to focus on any repairs that were required to keep the house standing until we figure out if we will retire there or sell it. I have to say, even though we are far away from retirement age, we will probably keep the house because my husband loves it there.
We worked on the outside.
We worked hard.
To the point that my hamstrings were so sore for days that I could barely walk and bending over was painful. Also, my knitting hand has been out of commission due to the overuse.
Anyway, we fixed anything on the outside to avoid any wood rot, keep critters out of the out buildings, sprayed for creepy bugs, made sure the blue painter’s tape (hillbilly patching) is still covering the holes in the vinyl siding, stained the deck, removed the rotting railing from the front porch, and painted the oddest front porch I’ve ever seen. (My father-in-law used plywood as decking material–I’ve never seen that). The gutters were cleaned and the house and out buildings were washed so that it looks as if someone is there taking care of the house.
Okay, now for the April-style-writing.
What the hell were we thinking? Better yet, what the hell was I thinking? When I take on a cosmetic job, I follow what my dad taught me. There is a right way of doing things in order to make a job last, and I follow his teachings almost-perfectly. He would be proud. I scraped peeling paint off crappy plywood, primed the plywood, and finished with a porch paint we are hoping will hold up to the weather until we can replace the porch with the style we like. The only step I skipped due to time constraints, was to sand before painting.
…..and my husband helped! Of course, I usually work in silence. No radio. No talking. That’s just how I roll. There were no “you can’t do thats” from me—well, there was one, and I’m looking forward to the day we can re-stain the deck. (Difference of opinion of which painting tool used to paint a deck). The biggest problem, is making a trip to The Home Depot is a two hour round trip. There are little hardware stores in town, but they seriously lack different options and stock.
We discovered that finding a contractor to help with the things we feel are a little out of our realm is rather comical. We have some porch roof supports that need replacing. One guy we called, came by with the best carpenter’s crack, a couple of teeth, with an explanation that he works alone until he needs a crew–“which are alcoholics–they aren’t criminals or thieves, just alcoholics”. Ding-Ding-Ding!
We don’t have internet or television in our little home in the farmland, so when we are so beat that we can’t do any more for the day we are stuck with each other. Which means I have to talk. Not that I don’t like talking, but I have had some serious mind thought rearrangement going on and I don’t think out loud anymore. Anyway, one night, my husband and I stayed up past midnight, and talked. This is how I discovered his total love of the tiny, rural town. If we can make it work, some day we will live there, and I will be happy as long as I have my husband, my cats—and lots of yarn.
Next on the list is to continue with the tape and mudding of the sheetrock on the inside. I should be good with this skill by the time I’m through practicing.