Generic mac and cheese leads to home improvements
The Husband rolls his eyes when he sees that I am watching the
new homeowner’s video Bible, aka Home and Garden TV.
Generic mac and cheese leads to home improvements
The Husband rolls his eyes when he sees that I am watching the new homeowner’s video Bible, aka Home and Garden TV.
“Don’t you know any other station on TV?” he says and walks quickly past me to avoid hearing, “You know what we could do? We could put tile in the kitchen instead of that ugly linoleum.”
I am inspired to paint, plant, remodel and redesign. And why not? Those hosts make it look so easy with their perky smiles and immaculately clean clothing after “maximizing curb appeal” by planting row after row of perennials to “earn top dollar” for homeowners looking to sell. That must mean that I am pretty handy, since I have learned so much, right? So incredibly wrong.
I have lots of grand ideas, but somehow in between, “I like those window treatments,” and the plaintive wailing that follows the extra set of holes that I had to make in the wall to fix the crooked curtain rod, my plans go awry.
Nothing is simple. Not even the floating shelves I got the bright idea to hang. I am just grateful for large wall art to cover my various attempts, and for garage sales so that I can unload the floating shelves on some other poor schmuck.
If you remember, the white walls in the living room had been mocking me since we moved in, in September 2004. That one wall in particular was the bane of my existence. The large, high, looming wall with architectural steps, a TV niche and a fireplace just to make things interesting.
Don’t worry, I didn’t take this project on. Not even with my trusty Werner ladder (which would have still only gotten me up to 10 feet, if I was lucky). I have learned my limitations.
We’d decided that we could scrape enough money together by eating a lot of generic macaroni and cheese to actually have the job done right, this time. It’s cheaper than divorce.
Not that The Husband is incapable of doing any household projects, but like me, he also knows his limits. After painting our bedroom, it was discovered that some nice moulding can cover a multitude of sins. He is also tired of my projects becoming his projects.
Our once somewhat flourishing shrubs in the side yard were the victims of a random act of trimming with my new Black and Decker hedge trimmer. Much like a bad haircut, I wished I could glue the branches back on. The shrubs have never been the same since. Luckily, The Husband never goes over there, or I would never hear the end of it.
Faux and distressed finishes are nice, but way beyond my area of expertise. It’s a miracle I was able to color match the paint in the bedroom to a favorite red pillow. Actually, the credit goes to The Girl.
“I want the paint to be color of this pillow.” I said, handing it to her as I surveyed the wall in front of me, tilting my head. Something was wrong.
The Girl nodded, “Sure, Mom. Whatever.” She’s used to my insanity when it comes to these things and tries to calm me by being a comforting teenage influence.
The wall I was looking at was in The Boy’s room, and was a frightening shade of fuchsia that I hoped would become the primary red I’d seen in the store, after another coat. If not, he was about to have a very gender-specific room. Kirk would have to learn to respond to “Kristina.”
The day finally came for the painters to arrive to do the Job-Beyond-My-Skill in the living room. When they were done (and I was giddy) and had used a pound and a half of spackle behind the big picture over the fireplace, one of them turned to me and said,” You know, we also do tile work.”
Looks like it’s time to stock up on more generic macaroni and cheese.
