| Perpetual motion |
 It's Sunday afternoon and I'm sitting here, sweating. Me! Sweating! My big hair is even bigger! The weather's nice, so you know what that means... it means that Dan and I are working on the house.
Our house, since it's an Edwardian one, requires lots of TLC to keep it in reasonable shape. The driveway is white gravel and needs to be re-done and have weed mat laid down before we are engulfed in vegetation. The brick wall that hides the piers under the foundation needs to be re-done, as the mortar is crumbling and the people that patched over it and painted it didn't want us to find out. We eventually did find out when the bricks went askew and all of the rendering peeled off.
Dan's cleaning out the garage and taking things to the local garbage tip. I've been weeding the rose beds and mosquito-proofing our outdoor toilet. The next thing we're doing is putting unwanted items out on the curb for the locals to help themselves.
It wouldn't be so bad, working up this sweat and going until my hands give out, but it never ends! I'm glad that we're cleaning out a lot of the unwanted items, however, since it gives Dan more space in our garage. I would love to have more living space in our house. I mentioned this to Dan and his mind immediately went to work.
He took me around to the back of the house and went to work, describing how we could add an informal room to the back of the house, where the pergola currently sits. At first, I'm excited, but then I wonder ... how much will this cost, and how long will it take to build this room? I already feel like I live in a perpetual construction zone.
Pity our friends though - between completely gutted kitchens and bathrooms, they've been living in a construction area for months. I think I've figured it out. Women like projects that they can see the end of. Men like projects for the project's sake and when one gets done, they want something else to tinker with. Or maybe that's just Dan and me. We'll never split up. We have too many unfinished projects. |
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| 3 Comments: |
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Gargabe tip? That's a phraseI never heard before. Ourdoor toilet? I hope you have an indoor one as well.
It is fall in New England. I will match you sore muscle for sore muscle. I am trying to put the garden to bed.
By the way, I like your hair like it was when you were little: All one length that curled which every way it wanted to go.
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Garbage tip = local dump
And yes, we have an indoor toilet, as well. :)
And don't get me started on the every which way curl (see photo of Albert Einstein...) haha!
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Name: Melanie O.
Home: Durham, North Carolina, United States
About Me: Female, American health and beauty-conscious professional who has rekindled a childhood love of dolls.
See my profile...
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posted by Melanie O. at 
Gargabe tip? That's a phraseI never heard before. Ourdoor toilet? I hope you have an indoor one as well.
It is fall in New England. I will match you sore muscle for sore muscle. I am trying to put the garden to bed.
By the way, I like your hair like it was when you were little: All one length that curled which every way it wanted to go.