Tag: love

The Most Dreaded Words A Man Will Ever Hear

I can utter a two word phrase that will send Mitch in a panic. “It’s dated.”  Whenever I speak those two simple  words together in a sentence, Mitch knows that another home improvement project is coming at him.  Some might argue that men fear hearing, “I think I’m pregnant,” more, and that may be true for younger single guys, but for a married man, my money is on, “It’s dated,” every time.

In the kitchen the conversation will start something like this.

“You know I think I’m going to paint the kitchen.”

Which causes Mitch to look around at the walls and say, “Why, what’s wrong with the color now?”

“It’s dated.  A fresh new color will make the room brighter.”

He’ll look at me and say, “Okay if you want to paint go ahead and paint, but I think the walls look fine.”

The next words out of my mouth will be something like this, “We really need to change the countertops too.  They are so old and faded, with stains and scratches.  And while we’re at it, we ought to think about new cabinets.”

Translation: he’ll be doing all of the heavy lifting, ripping out cabinets, installing new countertops and whatever else I decide to change.  After we spend days arguing over style, color and materials.  It must be true that opposites attract, because our personal styles are complete opposite.  Mitch has to have balance.  If you have a mantle and you place candlesticks one side of the mantle there has to be the same identical and number of candlesticks on the other side.  Asymmetrical design equates to total chaos to him.  While perfect balance and symmetrical design is boring to me.  I like chaos, it makes life and design interesting.

“What’s wrong with the cabinets?  Wait don’t say it, they’re dated, right?” 

“Now you’re in the spirit, maybe we’ll go darker,” I will answer, totally ignoring the sarcasm.

This will bring on the eye rolling and heavy sighs, but he knows he’s lost the battle, again.  Poor guy.

After the shopping, the arguing and the ultimate compromises on both sides, Mitch will then be called upon to do the hard labor.  I’m the idea person and he’s the implementer.

I Need a Little Cheese with this Whine

I am becoming a non functioning adult.  This year I am so unprepared for Christmas.  In years past, I always had the Christmas cards mailed by the tenth of December, I haven’t even bought any yet and it’s the twelfth!  I made clear lists and knew exactly what to get everyone.  Not this year, I have no ideas and there is no inspiration in sight.  I used to love the hustle and bustle of shopping, getting out there and finding that special gift for each one.  Now the crowds are claustrophobic and my patience is short.  After standing in the checkout line for over forty-five minutes at Cabelas Saturday, (the first stop) on our annual shopping trek, my enthusiasm started waning and after the half hour wait in line at Nebraska Furniture Mart, I was ready to call it a day.  And we hadn’t started shopping for everyone else. 

I was excited for Christmas back in October, now not so much.  I need more time, more ideas and the energy to execute.  Is this stress or lack of interest?  I’m suffering from input overload.  I need a spa day, but don’t see that happening anytime soon, I don’t have the time.

I am an Evil Person

I’ve been slowly and methodically corrupting Mitch, bringing him to the dark side without his knowledge.  It is so much fun.  To know Mitch is to know what an old soul he is.  I think he was born old.  He has never done some of the truly inane antics everyone has done growing up.  I am constantly shocked at the lack of silly things he hasn’t done.  Every teenager has at one time or another has cut donuts in a parking lot.  Not Mitch.  Mitch was into “entrepreneurial” endeavors growing up.  He had no time for crazy immature behavior.

So now I have to help him make up for all that lost time, even if I have to drag him kicking and screaming into having silly fun.  I can’t go into all of the things he never did, the list would be too long.  But I’m going to help him cross them all off the list, one silly act at a time. 

Last night for dessert, we had leftover pumpkin pie (who doesn’t).  I got the Reddi-Wip aerosol whipped cream out of the fridge to put on his slice and the dogs got very close.  They know what comes out of the can.  AJ has taught Orso that if he sits in front of me with his mouth open, I’ll squirt some in.  It is hilarious to watch whip cream flying through the air and landing in and around the dog’s mouth.  Charlie wants it too but won’t let you get close to him with the can.  He wants the Reddi-Wip squirted on your hand and he’ll lick it off.  Sissy.  Well I asked Mitch if he wanted some squirted in his mouth and he said. “Absolutely not!”  He’d never done that as a kid and wasn’t about to start now.  Really!  I laughed so hard.  Everybody has squirted Reddi-Wip into their mouths.  It was almost a rule, once you opened the can, some had to be squirted in your mouth.  Everybody knows that.

Well needless to say, I harassed him long enough and with the right amount of wine already consumed, he relented and let me squirt some into his mouth.  The look was priceless.  I still laugh when I remember the look on his face.  I asked if he wanted more and sadly, he declined.  Oh well, one down many more to go.

Poor Mitch.

A Dog is a Dog is a Dog And a Loved Member of the Family

 My son lost one of his dogs this past weekend.  His dog was ten years old and had a stroke.  That’s not particularly old for a dog, but not young either depending on the breed.  It came on fast and was not expected, which makes the loss more ragged and raw.  No one is ever ready to lose a member of the family, whether human or animal, but when it is unexpected there is a huge sense of loss. 

His loss made me remember Buddy, our yellow Labrador.  He was probably the best dog ever.  He always had a smile on his face.  Buddy was our constant companion going everywhere with us.  He was about twelve years old when he woke me up very late one night bumping into the cabinets in the bathroom acting disoriented.  His abdomen was huge and rock hard and he was panting heavily.  I thought that he needed to go outside to go pee or maybe he had to poop badly.  I had no idea what was wrong with him.  I took him out and watched as he stumbled outside.  He collapsed in the yard so I rushed back inside and woke up Mitch to help me get him in the house.

Mitch carried him in and laid him on the kitchen floor.  AJ laid down beside him, I sat on the floor by Buddy’s head asking Mitch what was wrong mentally imploring him to fix it, make it better for Buddy.  Neither one of us had ever heard of abdominal torsion.  We sat on the floor helpless watching him take his last breath.

As Buddy took his last breath, AJ laid his head on Buddy’s neck.  I believe AJ was trying to comfort Buddy.  I looked at Buddy but it didn’t dawn on me yet that he was gone.  I asked Mitch what happened, to fix Buddy.   Make it better.  Make him well.  As an adult, I knew Buddy was dead, but the little girl in me, wanted a higher power to fix everything, to right the universe, turn back time.  It wasn’t possible and I sat on the floor sobbing over Buddy, the best friend I’d ever had and beloved family member.

Family and friends all tried to comfort us, say something magical that would make us feel better.  It did and it didn’t.  Knowing that Buddy had touched so many hearts and we had so many friends helped, but the loss of him hurt so much.  It was a physical pain, in the chest, and behind the eyes, trying fruitlessly to hold back tears.  Trying to be a grownup, knowing it was just a dog and dogs die, but a dog isn’t just a dog, he was part of our family and it hurt as much as if he were a person.

I tried to comfort my son, saying all the things people say when you lose a family member.  Saying all the wrong things, realizing as I was saying them, it wasn’t enough and couldn’t find the magical words that would make him feel better.  But there is no magical word out there.  Loving and loss are the yin and yang of life and both are needed in our lives.  It’s what makes us compassionate and whole.

Buddy died in 2005 and I still miss him terribly.  I will laugh out loud as I remember some of his antics and shed a few tears occasionally, but that’s all part of loving and I am so glad that I have that ability.  I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Buddy –  1994 ? – 2005

The Great Bathroom Remodel

I can finally see the end of the tunnel.  The walls are all painted, two were even painted twice.  While caulking the tub, the alcohol that Mitch was using to cut the silicone, exploded from the bottle and splashed down two walls.  Guess what?  Alcohol doesn’t wash off.  So he had to re-paint those two walls.  It seems the curse continues.  We finally decided on the granite for the countertop and it’s laying on the floor in the living room to be installed after the final coat of stain dries on the base cabinet. 

We ultimately agreed on shower doors over shower curtains.  That took a long time to find The One, but we did.  That has been installed.  Of course installing a shower door with all of the parts didn’t go as easily as it would for normal people.  Mitch had to make a trip to the hardware store for longer anchors, I guess we have a fat tub.

All that’s left to do is hang the trim around the doors, install the crown molding, hang the upper cabinet, set the granite countertop and tile around the base of the walls to create a baseboard.  Oh, and install the towel bars and the shelving units in the closets.

I’ve thought about taking an inaugural shower, but decided against it because I know what would happen.  If Mitch discovered that we could actually use the bathroom before the total completion, there would never be a total completion.  We would limp along with a half finished bathroom, saying we need to get this done and never do.

I think we might just survive this remodel.  It’s been a tough one.

Summer and Cicadas

The sound of the Cicada serenade conjures up images of sitting on the porch with friends and family sipping a cold drink, enjoying the summertime evenings.  (For most people) that is.  Not me.  The sound of Cicadas mean a totally different summer ritual. 

I walk the dogs every morning at 4:30 while it’s still dark.  Yes I know at 4:30 it’s dark, but there’s a reason I mention that it’s dark.  And you’re wondering what walking the dogs at 4:30 has to do with Cicadas, well let me explain. 

I discovered quite by accident and pure disgust by the way that my dogs love to eat Cicadas.  One early morning I was walking Buddy, our yellow lab, when all of a sudden he jerked the leash toward something large on the ground and grabbed it in his mouth and chomped down.  As he snatched it up in his mouth, I heard this sound that sounded like a thousand bees buzzing at once then crunch.  As I realized what Buddy had just eaten, my stomach turned over and I thought for a second that I was going to vomit.  I thought for sure that he would spit the bug out, because it had to taste absolutely nasty.  Obviously not, he loved the taste.

After many Cicadas had been consumed by Buddy, I started to lose the queasy feeling every time he ate one and actually started to help him find them.  We currently have three dogs, and all of them love the taste of Cicadas.  So every morning on our walks, as we get close to street lights, I start walking around in circles looking for Cicadas resting on the street so the dogs can eat a bug.  Charlie gets really excited and watches me for any telltale sign of a Cicada so he can rush over and snatch it up before AJ can get to it.

Thank god no one else walks at the same time in the morning, because anyone that watched us would think I was totally nuts.

The Great Bathroom Remodel (formerly known as The Gutting of the Bathroom)

So many weeks have passed since we started the Great Bathroom Remodel.  It is now the middle of July and we started in April.  And to think that I was so sure with the two of us on vacation together we could knock out the demolition and renovation in one week, maybe two tops.  Silly me.  You can tell I have never been involved in such a huge undertaking.  I guess I really do live in a fantasy world. 

Demolition is over and rebuilding is underway.  There have been interruptions galore.  One week in the heat to replace the brake lines in the station wagon.  A few days here and there to help friends work on their cars.  Mitch just can’t say no.  Not to mention one huge temper tirade.  I thought that was the end right then and there.

The floor is tiled, the bath tub has been installed and most of the sheetrock has been hung.  Mitch is busy sanding the sheetrock as I write this.  He even has the floor to ceiling medicine closet built.  He wired the lights that will go over mirrors, cut the holes that will hold the mirrors and has plumbed all the water lines and drains for the sinks and tub.

I bought the wall paint and primer and am ready to start as soon as all the sheetrock has been hung and sanded.  The hold up now is the staining of the cabinets.  I had one cabinet stained, but because of the heat and humidity it didn’t turn out well.  The surface of the cabinet doors had dust and grit embedded in the stain.  So we had to bring them inside to the basement where it is much cooler than the garage and re-stain after sanding off all of the gritty stain.  I just love to redo everything I’ve already done.  But even in the basement with the air conditioner running, the stain is slow in drying.  We have to have the one cabinet that will go over the toilet done and in place before he can hang the last of the sheetrock.  I have two cabinets left to stain.  At this rate, I might be done staining by the second coming.

We decided on recessed lighting but haven’t found any we like yet  We haven’t picked out the counter top for the floor cabinet.  We haven’t even gone to look at anything yet.  And there’s the matter of the shower door / curtain.  We can’t decide which way to go.  Shower door or shower curtain.  Any suggestions? 

We’re still married, though at times it’s been close.

The Gutting of the Bathroom – Day I’ve Forgotten

We are now into a month without the master bath.  Things are progressing slowly to say the least.  Mitch has tiled the floor and it looks really good.  He does good work.  We decided that the best course of action on the ceiling was just add a layer of quarter inch underlayment over the existing sheetrock and re-texture the ceiling.  Great idea and it fixed the ceiling faux paux, but now the ceiling height is a quarter inch lower than normal height.  A quarter inch doesn’t sound like much, except when you have had custom cabinets made to fit the room and now the room is shorter.  As Maxwell Smart said in Get Smart, “Missed it by that much!”  So Mitch has to shave off a quarter inch from the cabinet in order to make it fit.

Another new development, when Mitch measured for the cabinet over the toilet, he measured the outside of the area, not the back of the wall.  Guess what, the back wall is an inch shorter than the front of the wall.  I know, most normal people would assume that the wall should be straight, but not in this house.  Nothing is straight or level, or normal height.  In order to help solve that problem, the sheetrock has to go.  After the sheetrock was pulled off and replaced with quarter inch underlayment, we’re still five eights of an inch short.  So more shaving.

One step forward, two back.  It’s starting to wear on us.  At least we’re still married.

The Gutting of the Bathroom Day 15

Day 15 I had to go to the doctor’s office today for a tetanus shot.  I woke up this morning to a red itchy rash on both arms and put two and two together.  I know it doesn’t sound like the two are linked, but on day one I cut my arm on the house.  I didn’t think much of it at the time, cleaned up the blood and put a band aid on the cut.  For days I carried sheet rock, old boards and other various dirty things to the car dump.  The same thing happened to Mitch last year, that’s the only reason I even thought about it.  About two weeks after he had worked on the exhaust system underneath the El Camino, rolling around in dirt and rust where he scratched up his arms pretty good, he broke out in a red itchy rash and his joints started aching.  He went to the doctor’s office and yes he needed a tetanus shot.  My last one was fourteen years ago, so I was due.

This day turned into one step forward, ten back.  I had ordered lights for the mirrors online and went they arrived, the lights were way too big and had cloth shades.  Nowhere on the web site did it describe the shades as cloth.  Cloth won’t work in a humid environment.  I returned them to the home improvement store and found out I didn’t all of the necessary paperwork.  That meant a trip home to print out some shipping confirmation that had a barcode on it so that the same store that I ordered from could read and then authorize a return.  Isn’t technology great?

Meanwhile, Mitch is diligently trying to measure, cut and lay the underlayment so that he can tile the floor, but things didn’t go so well.  A couple of catastrophes interrupted that.  A flat tire and a tire store that can’t even look at the tire for 2 hours in order to determine if it can be repaired or if a new tire is needed. 

I’m trying to get all of the errands done, take back lights, buy new lights, stain for the cabinets, dirt and tomato plants for the garden, (and get them in the ground) because it’s time to plant.  Oh and don’t forget doctor’s appointment.  All of this and be done and cleaned up in time for a retirement, birthday and welcome home party this afternoon.  Our friends like to multi-task too.

At least we’re still married.

The Gutting of the Bathroom Day 9

Day eight was demolition day.  We cut a hole in the living room wall adjoining the bathroom.  This was done in order to get the icky tub and vanity out of the room and to get the new tub in the bathroom.  Mitch finally broke down and let me use some of his power tools.  He let me use the sawsall and it was fun.  We cut up the old ugly bathtub and carried it out in pieces to the El Camino to wait for the city clean up day and go away forever.  Mitch removed the cracked cast iron sink from the vanity and it went to wait with the bathtub.  I personally hauled out the “lovely” faux wood grain counter top out to the truck.  We dragged the vanity out of the bathroom to the living room, but someone with a lot more “lead in his pencil” will have to help Mitch get it out of the house.  It is really heavy.  Mitch didn’t want to cut it up, not sure why.  I would have. 

We were able to remove the huge honkin mirror from the wall and carry it outside without breaking it.  We carefully laid it on top of the old station wagon mirror side up so that the birds will see themselves flying over head.  Mitch removed the sheetrock from the walls that will hold the new tub.  It’s surprising how big the room is empty. Eight foot by ten foot, as big as some tiny bedrooms.

Day nine Mitch’s vacation is over and had to go back to his real job.  I think he’s really glad to get back and get some rest.  This means that this is going to take longer than we (I) thought.  So for now, we have to shower in the basement bathroom.  Woo hoo.  Sadly, my vacation is over too.  I have to go back to work tomorrow.  But we’re still married.