It's not about the house.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Day 18, Project 3 & 8: Me too.

Me too this.

So last night Johnny told me to bring the door in but I said “You told me it would be okay.” Actually, I think I may have started a fight over the fact that he was (gasp!) going to help me bring it in, and I was insisting that I could do it “by my ownself” (a phrase borrowed from the first delightful book I've read all month). So then of course, being the most rational of all rational creatures, we left it out there rather than either of us admit defeat.

And, this being the best of all possible worlds, it rained again.


I mean honestly, I don’t even believe it really rained. Johnny insists he woke up and actually saw water falling from the sky, but what does he know about rain -- he’s only Irish. I wish there were a way to check weather that’s already happened. Did it rain last night? If not, is it actually possible that there is so much dew out there that it makes puddles in the G-D door? And if so, does that mean that I was right, so there on you, Mister I’ll-Help-You-Carry-That?!

Oh my god. I am insane.

So anyway today for some reason the puddle stains aren’t disappearing. Johnny says they will but they feel dry to the touch to me. All that was going to be left to do was sand it down and stain it (well, and then varnish it and hang it up again, but still), now I have to wait all these other, extra hours to see if those colors go away, and if they don’t then I have to bleach it down again. (And if they do, well, I’m not going to feel like doing anything by then anyway.)

So in the meantime I hung the clothesline. We bought the pulleys and hooks and everything when we first moved in the house, and then we never got around to actually putting it up. There was a reason, it was not just laziness (and if you believe that, I’ve got a little Craftsman bunglaow for sale…) but I can no longer remember what the reason was. Maybe back then we still cared what the neighbors thought. Now, though, I have no qualms about running my clean knickers up the pole for all to see. And if I didn’t stop him, Johnny would probably hang the dirties…

Here are the tools I had to use to hang a simple clothesline: ladder (to reach up high enough on the tree at the other end to match the height of the end I screwed in to the house), hammer (to bang the screw-in hook to start it off), drill (because the screw-in hook would not screw in even after banging off), screwdriver (to serve as a handle when threaded through the screw-in hook, because even with the drill-hole it was still awfully resistant to screwing in), knife (to cut the cord), Johnny (to hold the line tight so I could tie the knot).

We had some clothespins, but not enough to hang out an entire wash. I (brace yourself) actually called ahead to see if the supermarket carried them. They did, and since I was going to the grocery store, Johnny asked me to pick up this gas grill they had on sale for $100. (I haven't mentioned it yet, but our grill has shit the bed in enough places that buying replacement parts is now more of an exercies in existentialism than an honest-to-god fixit project. He gave me a hundred dollars that he’d (who knew?) put aside for just this purpose, and sent me on my way.

Well, yeah. They were sold out of grills. And the ad said “while supplies last,” so there’s no rain check. Which is a concept Johnny can’t quite wrap his brain around.

Oh, and also -- no clothespins. An empty space where clothespins are supposed to be, but nary a clothes-pinner in sight. Not one.

So tomorrow -- oh, Goody, leave me be -- tomorrow I’m going to that Ace Hardware to see how much grill Johnny’s $100 and my free thirty bucks will buy me. I’ll see if they have clothespins in stock while I’m there. In the meantime, to finish off my brilliant Sunday, I went ahead and brought the door inside. The stains still haven’t changed. Johnny still says they’ll go away. I still don’t believe him.

Oh, and while I was at the grocery store, I bought some beer.

Day 18: Accomplished
Time: Clothesline: 40 minutes; Clothespins (failed): let’s call it twenty; Door: 7 ½. 67 ½ minutes all together
Cost: Nothing (I’ll fill in the cost of clothespins here when I actually manage to bring them home, but for now -- nothing).
My First Beer Since Day 8.5: Priceless

1 comment:

Georgetown House said...

Your song for today, now more than halfway through this self-imposed insanity (and hopefully more than all the way through your first or third beer) is "I will survive."

This version in particular: