I overslept again this morning after having a vivid quarantine dream I was in a bar and was feeling drunk and sick but I couldn’t leave because I couldn’t find my server to get the check and pay my tab.
Woo, how many levels of crazy is that to analyze?
So in answer to everyone’s burning question, zero work was done in my proposed garden yesterday. But I’m not mad.
Let me explain.
The reason it’s hard to get stuff done around here is that there’s so much to do. We had an awesome time raising Julie and Eric and couldn’t be bothered with silly things like home maintenance when we could be doing cool things like going to New York for a gig.
I figured doing stuff the right way and finally making every room perfect in this tiny little home would be the next phase of our lives once the kids were grown and had places of their own. I mean, what else would we do when we were old?
I guess I didn’t realize that there would still be gigs to go to nights and weekends.
Many, many gigs.
Or that Gary and I would be so exhausted after working a forty hour week that the idea of any other project that could be construed as work in our time off was repugnant.
Yeah, yeah, it’s already been established we’re still children mentally.
Anyway, every conversation about home improvement goes like this:
Me, after surveying the damage to our kitchen floor following a malfunctioning dishwasher:
“We need a new kitchen floor.”
I so want bamboo. Can you use that in a kitchen? Gary said something about linoleum from Lowe’s. Over my dead body.
But I had other problems.
“First I want to install a new countertop,” Gary said.
Ooh, a new countertop? Does he even know how? Can I get granite? Please don’t tell me you’re making something yourself please don’t tell me you’re making something yourself...
Haha no worries, I would draw the line at that.
“So when are we getting a new countertop?”
“First I want to replace the range hood.”
“Oh. Okay. So when...”
“Before we do anything, I need to get up on the roof.”
“I thought we were getting a new roof this spring!”
Oh, right. It is this spring.
Our house is 110 years old and now on top of everything else, our roof leaks every time it rains heavily.
Did I mention we also desperately need to paint this place?
You guessed it. Can’t do that, either, with the ever present threat of water damage.
“I’m going up there to put a coat of (I forget what he said) and patch it.”
Omg.
“Why can’t we just get a new roof?”
Oh. There’s a pandemic.
Also, and I know Gary could give two craps about this, but I would die a thousand deaths - when the roofers, who are friends of Gary are up there, they will see the pit of hell that is our backyard.
Also, there’s no way I can let them back there in its current condition. They’ll get hurt and we’ll get sued.
Anyway, when it rained the other day, I had to put down a pot to catch the water. I am so not living like that.
“I know you really want me to start working in the yard but I really need to get up on the roof first,” Gary said to me yet again yesterday morning.
I gulped and my eyes started to fill up.
“I have everything I need already bought. It won’t take me long, I promise.”
As much as I hated to concede and temporarily give up the dream, he was right.
Literally every damn thing that needs to be done around here starts with a roof that doesn’t leak.
So I took a deep breath and gave Gary a look that told him Okay, then get the fuck up there and start patching because trust me, while I’m not confrontational 99% of the time, I have a breaking point and you don’t want to be around me when I reach it.
So he did.
And it rained heavily last night and we had zero water in the house.
I am not going to press him to go out there today. Hey, he worked his butt off yesterday and he’s all excited to be making Thanksgiving in May dinner tonight - this was his idea and I am so down with that.
But the real reason I’m able to relax about today is that I have an ace in the hole to get him motivated to begin work out there tomorrow and stay out there all week.
Next Sunday is Mother’s Day.
And I’m not able to be with my kids.
Muhahahaha.
(Nobody remind him that due to our kids’ lifestyles, they are always on tour in May and I don’t even remember the last time they were home that time of the year - maybe 2005?)
(Also, shhhh I hate Hallmark holidays.)
Haha, so yeah, I’m pulling the Mothers Day card. Don’t buy me chocolate, just make me a god damn garden and work out there every day this week so by next Sunday I can at least take a “before“ picture.
Okay, you can buy me chocolate, too. Because chocolate.
So that’s my plan, and I’m sticking to it.
I just hope I can get Gary outside working before he finds out about the murder hornets.
Oh, you didn’t know about the murder hornets?
Because apparently, Mother Nature hasn’t shown us how pissed she is at us already...
Jesus Effing Christ. Can’t she just smite Donald, instead?
I will have to pray harder.
Happy Sunday.
Or in my case, Happy Thanksgiving 😎
