Browsing Archives for Construction Diary

Paint Update

March 3rd, 2008

My entire body is speckled in paint. My shoulders hurt so bad I am in agony just sitting still. My shin splints have come back from climbing up and down the ladder twelve thousand times. I have paint caked in my hair. My eyes have gone twitchy. My fingers are rubbery. My brain is whacked. I have no feeling in my tongue. My eyelashes are falling out. Both of my ears are sagging and my left quadrant exosocometer is drooping out. My toes are bungled. Hydroceph is cockeyed. Nails are grim. Nostrils linty. Overall feeling of please say I never have to pick up a paint brush again.

Unfortunately I am only about… maybe… almost… but not quite… half way there.

If there is a good thing about this hellish predicament I find myself in – of having to paint an entire house – it is that I can drink as much REAL coca cola and eat as much ice cream as I want. Painting burns it all off. Plus, I don’t pee anymore. I just sweat. Sweat and sweat and sweat. Or maybe that means my kidneys are shutting down. Add kidneys shutting down or trickleometers broken to above list.

Kitchens Are Overrated

March 3rd, 2008

Week two of house with no kitchen and I have learned a few things.

1. It is possible to survive on diet pepsi and powdered donuts for days at a time.

2. All lunchmeat tastes pretty much the same

3. No one will touch the bag of carrots or the chunks of pineapple in the fridge if there is a box of powdered donuts around.

4. Ice Cream sandwiches count for meals

5. I can eat chips and salsa three meals a day and it doesn’t seem to bother me

6. I sure don’t miss loading and unloading the dishwasher.

7. Sure don’t miss kitchen clean-up.

8. I like to cook, but I think I equally like NOT to cook.

9. I have decided to found a movement AGAINST kitchens and FOR laundromats. I can wash and dry SEVEN loads of laundry at the local laundromat in AN HOUR!!!

10. I am calling this new movement Women Against Clean Kitchens of Slavery or WACKOS.

11. Anyone care to join?

Seriously though – think how much money we pour into kitchens and I have come to the conclusion that they are not only unneccesary, but they creat LOADS of work. Sure, I like a home cooked meal. I am just not sure how much anymore. Just a little food for thought. Ha ha ha ha ha. Get it FOOD FOR THOUGHT!!! hardee hardee ha ha. Then again perhaps I am a little malnourished…

The country doctor and I love old houses. And we would have given our eyetooth (whatever that is) to buy one and re-hab it. There were a few stipulations. It had to be in the country but not more than three miles out of town. It had to come with a pond. It had to have a sort of intrinsic charm, but we could handle some re-hab. We wanted neighbors, but not too many and not too close. (This was actually a compromise as the country doctor wanted to live in a commune and I wanted to live in Siberia.) We were looking for a magic place that would beckon to us mystically, as if we belonged to the house and the house belonged to us.

As you can imagine – in five years of looking, we did not find this particular piece of real estate. So we decided to build. Or rather – I spent about a year crying, screaming, pouting, packing a bag and threatening to leave, begging, pleading, and then doing all these things again, only louder and with more tears, until finally the country doctor said – ALRIGHT ALREADY!! let’s build a house.

So we did. We went thru the process – drawing plans, finding a builder, siting the house, digging a hole, blah blah blah. The process kept me pretty entertained for the past nine months. And overall, it has been an enjoyable process. But I am not sure I wouldn’t scrap it all right this exact moment, for a decent trailer on a lot with some grass. It’s starting to get to me. I am staring to feel chunks of my resilience break off and dissolve in a puddle at my feet.

Today I just wanted to read the new Harry Potter book. I just wanted to sit on my couch and read The Deathly Hallows. I mean hey, it is summer and my kids are all entertaining themselves in various ways. Everyone is fed and bathed and wrapped and swaddled and contented. I have no kitchen to clean and no urgent laundry to do. I could sweep or dust, but why? The saw if going to churn up more dust in the next seventeen seconds to make that a completely inane task. Why can’t I just lay here and read my book?

Because my house if full of men who are WORKING – and that makes me feel like a worthless slug to lay on my couch and read. I guess I could slink off to my bedroom and read, but then I would feel like a sneaky worthless slug.

But I did it anyway. I sat on the couch and read. Then I started to doze off. SO I reclined on the couch and read. Every time I heard a worker’s boots draw near, I pretended to be awake and concentrating, but I was really napping. And no one hurled insults at me or said “Get a JOB!!” or demanded to know why I wasn’t painting the millions of things that needed to be painted or pointing out that the clothes in the dryer needed to be folded. And so Harry and I made some progress. In a house full of working men. And so far, we are both still hanging on.