Potential Hazard Ahead

I’m the half of the marriage that fixes things around the house. Not mechanics and electricity–you don’t want me near those. An on-going debate between the men in the family revolves around the wisdom of me using power tools just because of that one time I went to the emergency room over nearly cutting the tip of a finger off with a circular saw. It was just a nick, no matter how much blood spurted over the wood, the floor, my jeans, and the four year old who thought it was funny and started shouting, “Mom cut off her finger!”

But I do everything else. Paint, plaster, saw molding, re-tile, upholster, cart furniture around, dig, weed, and generally shore up all the sags in this house. I’ve also learned how to put up bookshelves after the master shelf hanger (the husband) retired.

This morning, I dismantled the kitchen and am about to repaint the kitchen cabinets. They’re a mix of real cabinets with salvaged wooden boxes on top for cookbooks and extra storage. They’re dark green so I’ll have to do two coats of a pale gray. This should lighten the room, especially against the brown tile I put up years ago, now hate,but am too tired to chisel off.

The husband is hiding out on the porch. What makes him an incredible husband is how extraordinarily gifted he is in not noticing his surroundings. I would have to take his face in my hands and push it smack into such whoppers as the hole in the ceiling, the sagging floor or the stairs separating from the wall. So long as I stay out of the way of the coffee pot, he won’t notice the kitchen mess. He’ll probably drift in about the time I’m standing back looking over the job. I’ll ask him what he thinks. He’ll sort of swivel his head around and say, “Huh!”,….add a beat to contemplate whatever I’m asking his opinion about before saying, “it’s nice.” Then he’ll edge around the ladder to get to his next destination before the television.

Not my fault! He was early getting his coffee.

This is the definition of a happy marriage.

So I’m off to the hardware store for molding and nails and a pit stop at the market to pick up the ingredients for Monday’s post. Hopefully the kitchen will be put to right, neat and (very hopefully) lovely, by the time I have to cook and write.