Annddd….now we’re building a garage.
A garage that looks like it might be bigger than this house, and, well, we all know the sorts of debacles that went into this place.
Look familiar? That’s the basement wall building party…in the middle of a 20 degree winter day…
Last winter’s three night backsplash marathon that sent Husband up and down a ladder to the basement to get to his saw, because, well, we didn’t have stairs. (Or a basement floor, but who’s keeping track?)
Last summer’s death defying chandelier project two hours before hosting Husband’s 30th Birthday Party
This summer’s railing, saving me from sleep walking to my death…
The bathroom tiling project that nearly ended a thirteen year relationship…
The loft that went from shop to master bedroom one board at a time…
And let us not forget the birthday deck...
So now we’re onto the garage. Oh, it’s only about a year off schedule, but right in time to be tackled in the monsoon, 24-hour rain that fell the day before Husband got the hammers out.
And so it’s the story of his life, standing ankle deep in a mud puddle holding a power tool with one hand and holding up a giant wall with the other, looking up at the sky wondering which way the clouds are moving and where the time goes while his wife hollers out the door wondering if there’s time for some lunch.
Why must all of our projects span over the year mark? That’s the next question I wanted to ask after the lunch question, but I thought maybe it wasn’t the best time to bring it up.
I mean, wasn’t it last November that we dug the giant hole for the footings for this thing? Did I or did I not walk across a plank over a moat over the slush and snow and ice to get to my house for a good ten months before the weather dried the ground enough to get some blocks and concrete in that thing?
Didn’t I fall in that hole?
More than once?
Didn’t my neighbor nearly slide her way to a broken hip in her innocent attempt to deliver Christmas wreathes?
Didn’t I make my dear husband promise that this building project was going to be easier than the last house project?
That there on the right is a face of hope and trust…
Didn’t he tell me that a garage could go up in a couple weekends?
Didn’t I make him define the number “couple?”
Didn’t I learn anything about believing him?
Didn’t he tell me to order scoria last week while he was away in Texas so that he wouldn’t have to work in a mud hole if it rained?
Did he know it was going to rain?
Didn’t I make that call? I can’t remember…
Didn’t anyone tell me not to marry an ambitious carpenter no matter how cute that carpenter looks in his Carharts?
I mean, I have sawdust in places I didn’t know existed…
But it doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t have listened.
Because I have a weakness for capable men.
And turns out we need a garage. Somehow it’s feeling a bit more urgent today…
Heaven help the carpenter’s wife. May we one day reclaim our kitchen tables from the tools that rest there…
Meanwhile, back at the ranch... 
Honey–at least he works on it!! Mine either waits till I do it myself or forget about it altogether!!
Yeah. There’s that! I am grateful, just tired and muddy 🙂
Reblogueó esto en El Noticiero de Alvarez Gallosoy comentado:
Add your thoughts here… (optional)
Pingback: Another year… | Meanwhile, back at the ranch…