Category Archives: Personal

“My Husband”

I’ve been paying attention to the ways my relationship with Josh has changed, and the ways it hasn’t, since we married at the end of July. The quality of our relationship has deepened, I think due to the intensity of the process of preparing for the wedding, as well as experiencing together the utter magic of the day (it was astronomically more magical than I anticipated, but I digress). Apart from those things, the quality of our relating hasn’t changed significantly.

Our financial/legal lives have changed, since we now have a living trust in place, as well as our legal and medical powers of attorney. I realized the day we signed the papers it that it was the “second half” of marriage that we finally completed, what straight couples do the same day they marry, by way of signing the marriage license.

And then there was bringing Josh’s accounts into my Quicken file. Whew, that was significant! ; )

There is one other aspect of our lives that has changed significantly that I didn’t consider very much: what we call each other. “Husband.” While there are plenty of folks (gay and straight) who may recoil at my use of this word, I absolutely claim it. The entire time we were preparing for the wedding I was insistent on acting like any other couple where appropriate (and there are few situations where it isn’t appropriate in my mind).

And this is a significant change. We had all kinds of playful names of referring to each other before the wedding: “zombie boyfriend” when groggy after sleeping, “crabby boyfriend” (self-explanatory), “boo-boo boyfriend” (feel free to vomit in your mouth a little). All of those had to be converted from “boyfriend” to “fiancé” before the wedding, and now to “husband.”

Sometimes one of us slips and says “boyfriend,” and the other waits for the brain to catch up, and the correction made. This has been a gratifying conversion, due to the significance of the new moniker.

At times this can be uncomfortable and/or amusing. Because, you see, I use the same word out in the world that I use in my home: Josh is my husband. Even after being out more than 20 years it can still take a breath and a moment of resolve to come out, yet again. Take this afternoon, for instance. Josh called a paving company to have a look at our driveway (it’s in rough shape). While I was mowing this afternoon, a car drove up and parked across the street. I said hello–I had forgotten about the driveway and assumed Josh was getting rid of something else on Craig’s List. Jim stated he was here to look at the driveway, “Are you Josh?” After an instant of thought and a small breath, I said, “He’s my husband. My name’s Jay,” and I shook his hand.

I must say that I experience a non-malicious moment of enjoyment as I watch the *tilt* look on peoples’ faces–in a moment I have forced them out of their normal everyday interactions where things fall into well-worn, well-known categories. Much like being given a gift and finding that it doesn’t immediately belong in one’s home. “What do I do with this?” is the look I often see on peoples’ faces.

As I write this I can’t think of an instance where someone didn’t handle this situation well (I don’t consider the awkward pause a sign of handling it poorly). Today with Jim we went right on and talked about the driveway. He shared his professional opinions with me, I thanked him, and he left to go prepare some quotes for us.

While I don’t enjoy the discomfort I caused (my being the cause is debatable, and you know what I mean), I DO enjoy the opportunity the person has to broaden their experience, as well as the small dent I’ve just made in the world of status quo, old-style-normalcy, and lack of acceptance. The best way to defeat lack of acceptance is to be who I am unapologetically and graciously, and connect with people. Who knows what Jim thought as he drove away: was he uncomfortable? Amused? Happy? Troubled? Who knows. Maybe he told an associate, “yeah, I met this guy who said his husband called me for a quote. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about at first, but he seemed like an ok guy…” Or maybe none of this occurred to him and he just remembered he forgot to put the trash out this morning–I shouldn’t be presumptuous. But I would place a bet.

I don’t know for sure what his thoughts were; I do know, though, that I heard myself say “my husband” one more time, thereby making it more real and more normal in my world and THE world. I believe strongly that it’s imperative we make these small statements as often as we can, wherever we can. It’s an important way that “marriage is two loving people” will become more normal in the world.

It’s All About the Heart

Literally.

Last night I took my third annual CPR refresher. The protocol has gotten even simpler to remember, and the teaching style has been greatly improved to be much more hands-on than the previous more-informational style.
If you haven’t yet gotten your CPR training, I highly encourage you to do so. Keeping someone’s blood moving through their body is absolutely crucial in case of a heart attack. Our blood has enough oxygen for 10 minutes, yet it won’t do any good if it’s not moving. When CPR is rendered, it’s quite possible that there will be no neurological damage due to hypoxia.
We also learned (again) how to help someone who’s choking, whether they be an adult or a 2-month-old.
In the Taking It Lightly weekend I do a lot of “heart work.” I’m very happy that I know how to do this kind of “heart work” as well.
For information on CPR training, visit www.redcross.org.

McNaughton 10 II

Last April I told you about running the McNaughton 10 while my friend, Ryan Dexter, ran the 150-mile race. Once again this year, I went down to Pekin, Illinois, and ran 10 miles with Ryan.

I left at 6 AM and once again listen to for hours of podcasts from my iPod. However, this year I drove south with the aid of Bruce, the Garmen GPS that Josh and I bought ourselves for Christmas. last year I got a little lost and needed to call Josh to get assistance through Google maps so that I could find my way.

Bruce has been one of the best purchases I’ve ever been involved with. It made the drive very stress-free and really enjoyable. I rarely get or make the time to listen to podcasts, so four hours of Grammar Girl, the Get It Done Guy, and Modern Manners Guy was like a four-hour slice of heaven.A week before the race I was a bit concerned that the weather was going to be as bad as it was last year. I wasn’t looking forward to another day of running and standing around in cold, rain, and generally miserable conditions. I was quite happy that the forecast changed: when I arrived it was sunny and in the 50s. While there had been some serious rain at the beginning of the 150-mile race, the sun had dried up most of the mud, so that, for the most part, the run was on solid ground.

Last year I also made a promise to Ryan and that I would run with him anytime he ran 120 miles first. I made even better on that promise, as I ran with him after he ran only 110 miles. I ran the first half of the eleventh 10-mile lap. The terrain was just as I remembered it, complete with the creek and river crossings. At the halfway point, someone took my place and I took the truck back to the starting point.

Ryan’s wife, Christina, their boys, and Christina’s mother came during the afternoon, bringing hot chocolate with them. This was a big boost for Ryan&mdsash;he really enjoyed seeing them.

Later in the afternoon I ran the last half of the 14th lap. Randy ran in front, and I ran behind Ryan, being the voice and is ear. After the first couple of laps, Ryan always had someone running with him, to help motivate and keep him focused. We got back to the starting point not a moment too soon, as it was getting pretty dark by that time.

Dema ran the last lap with Ryan and, understandably, it was the slowest lap of the race for him. Even with this, however, Ryan set a record of having no lap of the race being more than 2 hours 45 minutes.

Christina arrived a while before the race ended, and Ryan finished his race in great style: through the dark we could see five bobbing lights heading toward the finish line—four of the guys finish the race with him. Andy, the organizer, announced Ryan’s finish and there was much applause and encouragement.

We took a few pictures, then I said my goodbyes and took off after 11 PM. Luckily, I had taken a short nap during the last half of the last lap, so I was awake enough for the ride home. And, while Bruce did an equally fantastic job on the ride down, I was a little tired and a bit absorbed with the New York Times fiction stories on my iPod, so that I missed the turn to 39 N. and instead headed toward Chicago. While I was frustrated with my mistake, I was very happy to have Bruce guiding my way. While he took me somewhere where I’ve never been before, and attempted to get me to do a U-turn where there was a median, he eventually got me back on the right road, adding only 15 minutes my trip. I was impressed.

I got home at about quarter after 3 AM on Sunday morning. My bed felt wonderful, and in the morning I discovered that even after not enough sleep my body felt okay, especially my left knee, which had hurt the most after running. I’ve been quite happy that I wasn’t in as rough shape as I was last year. I hadn’t been planning on running the Madison have marathon this year, but if my knee gets back to normal quickly I just may reconsider.

Ryan won the 150-mile race by more than six hours. Not only that, if he had stopped at 100 miles, he would have won that race by two hours. Big congratulations to Ryan!

The Strangest Thing I’ve Done (Naked) In Quite Some Time

[Oh, do you think you know where this is going? I’ll bet you don’t.]

It’s not my fault. It’s the cats’ fault. [How about now?] This story requires some background:
Josh moved in at the beginning of August, and brought his (cat) girls, Maggie and Feliz, with him. We followed the proper protocol: lock them in a room for a month, and never let them or Raja (my boy) see each other. They can smell one another under the door, etc. At the same time, we locked Raja in our bedroom to minimize his anxiety with all of the noise going on during renovations.
Starting in September we would let everyone out for an hour or so, then back in the room. We gradually increased the time until finally after about two months, I think, the doors were opened for good.
Obviously if a cat is locked in a room a litter box is required, so Maggie & Feliz had theirs, and Raja had his in the master bedroom. I didn’t really enjoy this–litter in the bed is a result, both carried by his paws as well as our feet from the litter that was perpetually on the bedroom floor (hardwoods–bamboo–I installed it myself). I find litter in the bed quite annoying.
Even after the doors were open, we often shut the doors during construction to keep the cats contained, which reduces their stress. Once the house was on the market at the beginning of the year, we moved Raja’s litter box downstairs to the office. That’s when the trouble began.
Maggie and Feliz would chase Raja through the house. We didn’t realize the dynamic we had set up: Raja is a very timid cat, and Josh’s girls are both much more social and assertive. Raja was spending all of his time on our bed, even after the doors were open, so as to avoid the girls. Thus, they reached a detente that they didn’t publish anywhere: Raja may be in the bedroom (actually, on the bed), and Maggie and Feliz may be everywhere else. When he had his space in the office they deigned to let him have that space as well. So, he can be in the bedroom on the main floor, where we fed him, or in the office where his litter box and water were. Do you see a logistical problem here?
Every time he wanted to go to the bathroom he had to run the gauntlet, as well as when returning to the bedroom. the would literally chase him back to his room (sometimes he wasn’t allowed to go downstairs) and onto the bed, even jumping on the bed to intimidate him, if I may anthropomorphize a bit.
Josh, ever thoughtful as he is, began getting concerned last week that Raja wasn’t getting enough water. So we decided to put a bowl of water in the bedroom.
[Are you wondering what the heck this has to do with my being naked? I’ll get there shortly.]
Josh was right: Raja wasn’t getting enough water. He was drinking lots of water, so it was good we had the water up there. Lots and lots of water. Water, water, water. It occurred to me to possibly be nervous, but Raja has always been so faithful with his litter box that I considered the risk to be quite low.
Until last Thursday.
Last week Monday through Wednesday Josh took Raja down to his office when he (Josh, not Raja) was working. Raja would use the litter box and hang out for a while, sometimes running the gauntlet to get back to home base.
Thursday Josh didn’t go down to his office. I know you see it coming.
As we were getting ready for bed, I walked into the bedroom and saw a LARGE wet stain on the comforter. “Oh, he didn’t pee,” I thought, “he just threw up.” No he didn’t–he peed.
On my bed.
On my down comforter.
I’m quite happy to state that I almost never get frustrated with cats, and never when a ‘misbehavior’ is caused by their stress. I was nowhere near angry with him; indeed, I felt sorry that I had put him in this position. Knowing how faithful he has always been with his littler box, I was quite sure he held it as long as he could, stressed out, and then lost the battle.
I feel like a bit of a bad cat-daddy as a result, but 1) I’ll get over it; and 2) that’s not pertinent to the story.
I soaked up everything I could with paper towels, then we stripped off the duvet and put the comforter in a large trash bag, in the garage where it would stay cool (we left the following morning for the farm–no time to wash it). I washed the duvet in enzymes, which solved that problem completely. However, an industrial washer and dryer are required to wash a down comforter.
[We’re almost there; do you have any guesses yet?]
I intended to leave work by 4 today to get time after work and before a call at 7 tonight to wash and dry it. I checked the instructions of the enzymes and realized I didn’t have enough time: the comforter needs to soak for an hour in the enzymes, then finish the cycle, then wash again, then dry. No small project.
[Here it comes; are you ready?]
There’s no way to start a Laundromat washer, cycle until wet, then turn it off for an hour. First of all, there’s no way to shut one off (that I know of); second, others would need it more than likely, so I couldn’t waste the time. So I made an alternate plan.
I mixed the enzymes, waited a few minutes for them to activate, then put warm water in the tub (between 75 and 110°). I’d soak the comforter there for an hour, squeeze it then go to the laundromat.
Have you ever tried to soak a down comforter in a bathtub? I’ll bet not. Because the better question is: have you ever tried to submerge a down comforter in water? Or a related question: have you ever tried to hold a beach ball under water? It ain’t easy.
If you’re a scout and have received your swimming merit badge, or whatever the analog is for girl scouts, or ever taken a water survival course, you learn that blue jeans (without holes) make nice floatation devices: take them off, tie the ends of the legs together, put them over your head with the knot behind your neck, then holding the waistline below the water, “splash” air under water until it fills with air. The water causes the threads of the fabric to expand, as well as adding water tension to the surface. As long as the pants are kept wet, they hold air pretty well.
Now imagine that same phenomenon with a queen-sized down comforter. (No jokes, please. Oh what the heck: jokes, please.) It’s actually more challenging than a beach ball, because you push down here and it pops up there.
Being a thinking man, I went to the kitchen and got several cooking screens and racks. I thought I could use them to push down on the comforter. It didn’t work–the air kept moving away from where I pushed down.
[ok, you see it coming now, don’t you?]
I decided the only way to soak the entire comforter all the way through was the man-handle the thing. I took off my clothes and got in the tub. Even that didn’t work at first: I’d kneel here and push there with my hands, and the bubbles would simply move. So I hearkened back to my four months in Asia living with a Thermarest and sleeping bag with stuffsack: I started at one end, squeezed all the air out, then rolled it. Kneel on it. Roll, kneel, roll, kneel, until I got all the way through. It got even more challenging at the end, and I finally did it. I then spread out the comforter and agitated it. I looked a bit like Lucille Ball stomping grapes, except that I’m a man, not a woman; I’m stomping on a comforter not grapes, and I’m naked. Other than that, I’m sure we looked a lot alike. I could make more comparisons, but this is a family show.
Then it’s time to get out of the tub. I turn on the water and use the hand-shower to shower off my legs and arms. Then dry and get out.
I mentioned the enzymes: the product is called Odor-Mute, and it works AMAZINGLY well on cat urine: it gets rid of the odor completely and passes the black light test (urine–including human urine–phosphoresces under black light). Curiously, it’s the exact same enzyme that’s in Adolph’s Meat Tenderizer. So not only have I been removing the urine smell from the comforter, I’ve been tenderizing myself. I must be very tender by now. Throw me on the grill.
Well, I have my clothes back on by now, and it’s been almost an hour since I set it to soaking. It’s time to go squeeze the water out, and go to the Laudromat. Hm. I’ll probably have to get naked again.
Wonder whether it will come out all right? Wonder whether I’ll make my phone call at 7? Wonder whether I’ll die of boredom at the Laundromat? or get mugged? or meet an angel or something?
Check back later to find out. This is my cliff-hanger.

Two Down, Many to Go

Josh and I went to the Kalahari Waterpark in Wisconsin Dells to celebrate our second anniversary. I would normally eschew something so touristy (I am a snob in several ways…), yet Josh wanted to go somewhere warm. I was happy to go, especially since he got a special deal through work.

We arrived, as planned, before our room was ready, and went to the waterpark. There were, I dunno, a thousand people in there? The Lazy River wends its way through the whole place, which is punctuated by rides here and there, as well as four hot tubs.It wasn’t as warm as we were expecting–at first, anyway. we walked around for a bit, then went on a couple of the rides, then a couple laps of the Lazy River. What’s very cool is that they have single- and two-person innertubes. We jumped in a two-person and floated around, then went down more rides in that same tube. Then we went down a ride that used no tube–lie on your back, cross your legs (lest you want something unpleasant to happen) and put your hands behind your head. Unfortunately, I put my hands behind my neck, which did not serve the same purpose–I bumped my head. Not too bad. The ride itself was very fun! It involved shooting down a snaking tub into something large that was akin to a toilet bowl, then getting dumped unceremoniously into the pool below when the centrifigal force dropped. We had a lot of fun!

After a while we sat in the hot tub. However, after a few rides, we were warm enough everywhere in the park.

We went back to the room around 4:30 and had a nap, then got ready for dinner. We went to the Cheese Factory for dinner on Diane’s suggestion (thanks, Diane!). If you’re a Facebook member, you can read my review.

After dinner we went back and walked around the game area. Not so fun–lots of cheap, shiny things to attract kids’ attention. It just seemed kinda lame. However, we stopped and took a sequence of four pictures in one of those machines–that was fun. I’m attempting to get the picture up here or on Facebook and am being stopped at every turn–don’t know why.

We went back to the room and played a really fun game of Settlers of Catan cardgame. The game lasted 3 or 4 hours. I just squeaked out a win before Josh was about to take over and win.

What changed our plans was a call before dinner from the “showing line” that someone wanted to see the house a second time at noon the next day! We wanted to spend more time in the waterpark, but that was not meant to be. : ( However, we had a good time while we were there, and will probably go back another time.

A Dream

I had a very interesting dream the other night. It was brief, yet very emotionally vivid. I don’t often dream of such topics, yet I’ve been so troubled by the violence in the Middle East–maybe my brain was looking for some kind of resolution.

To begin, understand that the world in this dreamscape differs dramatically from the world in which we live. Here were the “facts” in my dream:
  • One of the worst things a Muslim or Jew could do cultuerally would be to use a comb that had been used by one in the other group. Kind of like how throwing a shoe is a significant form of disrespect.
  • Muslims and Jews wear a small piece of metal shaped something like a ring in their hair near their temple–on opposite sides. These rings are incredibly significant, and one would never go without wearing one, or wearing it on the “wrong” side.
It wasn’t clear in my dream which side was appropriate for which group. I should explain that my dreams are never very visual; they are more “situational.” I experience in dreams what I do when reading; I don’t dream in color, and images are never very distinct. I tend to know who someone is simply because I know who they are–not that they look like the person I know them to be. Also, sometimes I am a participant in the dream, sometimes I’m simply an observer, and sometimes I go back and forth. In this dream, I’m only an observer.
OK, so here’s the dream. It’s brief:
* * *
The setting is somewhere in the Middle East–somewhere where Muslims and Jews live in proximity to each other. Out in the open, as though it were a market or something. Daytime.
There is a small, simple stage with side curtains and a back curtain. Two men stand on the stage: one is Jewish and one is Muslim, but it’s not clear which is which (see how odd my dreams are?). They are doing some kind of impromptu performance. They are both passionate.
One of the men pulls out a comb and runs it through his hair. He hands it to the other man. The second man then runs the comb through his own hair. The crowd gasps.
The men then simultaneously flick the “rings” out of the hair at their temples, and they ping, ping, ping on the stage. A much louder gasp.
* * *
It was clear to me in the dream that these two men passionately yearned for peace. While coming from different faiths, they did this significant show of unity. The comb through both of their hair connected them. The flicking of the rings signified a refusal to any longer appear separate. While the image of the dream was very brief, it felt at the end that this ripple would continue to travel beyond them, and would not be stopped. People would tell the story of what they saw, and somehow understanding and Grace would travel with the story.
I long for a world where that happens.

"First Date?"

I wasn’t expecting a first date, but there it is. Josh was out of town; was I cheating on him? I was ironing clothes and getting cleaned up to look just right, taking great care with all appearances, there was even talk of mouthwash on Facebook. Being received positively was so important! What kind of first impression would I make? Would there be another meeting? Would the deal get closed?

OK, enough with the double-entendres (which really means I’m running out of ways to stretch it any more without horrible sentence structure). If you’re up to date on my life at all, you’ve probably already figured out I’m talking about the house: I listed on January 2 and today was the first open house.
While the place was in very good shape already, I wanted it to be perfect. This is a great place for my perfectionism to come out. I’ve had a basket of clothes thats needed ironing for months. I didn’t want the basket in the laundry room, so I ironed everything. By the time I was done doing that and laundry, it was quite late, and the only dirty clothes in the house were those on my body. While I don’t achieve it anywhere near what I’d like, I very much enjoy “a place for everything and everything in its place.”
I finished organizing some random packing boxes, and some loose odds and ends that hadn’t made their way into boxes yet. I cleaned this and that, vacuumed the entire main floor and polished all the floors (which really needed it—I hadn’t done it since construction was done).
I planned out everything to be done today, and got to bed late. This morning I did a few more things, then went to church. On the way home I stopped and got a wrap for lunch and flowers for the kitchen. I baked cookies (yes, I’m a completely house-selling whore), prepared the cats for our trek, turned the heat up to 70° and turned on all the lights. A few minute before 1 Connie showed up, and I stowed the three cats and me into my car; we were going to spend some quality time. Everything passed Connie’s inspection, so we were off.
Connie found out last week that there was going to be an Orchard Ridge Parade of Homes, and she got my house into it—great timing! So while she showed my house, I went to look at most of the others (there were 12 total). I got to 8 of them in two hours.
It was fun: I got an opportunity to see what the market by me was like. I’m happy to state that I’m positioned quite well. I enjoyed talking with the other Realtors, and was up-front that I was another house on the tour; no one seemed to mind. I walked into one house and a woman was ironing. Hm. I wasn’t aware that there were two houses on the tour that were being shown by the sellers. It was even ok with them; we had a nice chat. He enjoyed showing off his house, which deserved it: they’d done a nice job with it.
One beautiful, large, expensive house was vacant and all the storm windows were open! I informed the Realtor and we went about closing them all. Three of the houses had clear pet odor smells. I asked them if they’d like a recommendation (www.odormute.com), and all three jumped at it. It felt good to be able to help some people out. Some of the properties were in pretty rough shape (one in particular), and one small house was absolutely stunning: new maple floors (strip, not plank like mine), in-built maple cabinets with glass doors and lights, beautiful tile by the entry way and other finishes. The woman and her boyfriend had done much of it themselves. I was impressed, and glad that they were only a two-bedroom so that they weren’t my competition!
We got back at 3 and Connie waved me in—there was no one there presently. She said four couples came through, which is ok for an open house in January. She’d already prepared us that open houses don’t do a whole lot any more, although she always likes to have one after putting a house on the market. Tom, a previous owner, came by with his family and a few of my neighbors, and he left me a nice note. I asked Connie if anyone had critiques, and she said there wasn’t one. Everyone loved the floors, the sunroom, the other approvements and appointments, and someone even complimented the staging (points to Connie and Stacy for that one!). Many of the houses I saw weren’t depersonalized or staged that much; I was again thankful for my position.
I feel very good about the position of the house in the market, my price point, etc. Now that this “first date” is out of the way, I’m more relaxed. I can be myself a bit more.
I made way too many cookies. They’ll go to work tomorrow.
Forgive the shameless plug: see the house at www.1317RaeLane.com

One of the Gang

I had a neat experience at Home Despot [sic] yesterday. I went to get the LAST FOUR outlet plates for the kitchen. Of course I could only find two of the four I wanted. They apparently had five in stock, but at Home Creepo [Tim calls them that] all that stuff gets horribly mixed around.

The guy who was helping me got help from another guy at a computer, and a woman was standing by talking to him. I told them how I’d been at Home Depot, on average, once every day for the last two or three months. “To get these covers?” he asks. Funny. “No, I’ve been spending LOTS of money here renovating my house.” “And we appreciate it–we’ll miss you!” Nice.

When he mentioned there were only five in stock, and then mentioned there were 250 at the East Side location, I said that I’d send my boyfriend there after work to get them. They laughed. Not that I said it about a boyfriend specifically, but they got my light comment that I was delegating this responsibility to him.

I make a rule that when I’m in a situation where anyone else would mention their significant other, I do as well, regardless of the consequences (as long as people with white robs holding shotguns aren’t nearby). For a moment I lived in a world where the gender of my life partner didn’t matter.

I enjoyed it.

Is This What Civilized People Do?

Great day today. Josh and I had our Sunday-morning pancakes (he made them–wonderful), then church, then home to continue work on the house. I finished the drywall in the downstairs bedroom while he put the stew on to cook that he prepared last night. He made some bread (focacia), and I asked him to make an extra loaf of dough.

We installed all of the hardware in the bathroom (looks very nice). For five years I looked at a set of shelves that had been installed crooked over the toilet. Like 1/2″ off one side to the other–how does that happen? When I installed the new shelf it was crooked! I futzed with it, and it was just that the thing wasn’t seated properly. It’s now quite level, thank you very much.
I did something I haven’t done in about 30 years: I made cinnamon rolls! While they were rising and cooking we cleared all of the tools and extra stuff out of the living room–it had been the staging area during constructions. The furniture was all piled up (the cats loved the hiding places) and tools were everywhere. No more: it’s all out and vacuumed, and the furniture is set up. We filled all the nail holes, then sat down on the furniture for rolls and hot milk tea. We just sat there. And ate rolls. And drank tea. It was very odd.
Is this what civilized people do? Eat rolls and drink tea while sitting on furniture? Turn off lights using switches that have switch plates on them instead of seeing the wiring? Walking on vinyl and hardwoods instead of subfloors? Use the bathroom on the main floor instead of going down to the basement? Sit at the kitchen table for a meal instead of at the counter because the table is full of junk?
Hm. Civilized, eh? I like it!

Girlie Construction Men

Josh and I have been working our tails off recently on the house. Tonight as we sat down to dinner, we wondered whether other guys doing construction experience what we do.

This weekend we removed all cabinet doors in the kitchen, then removed their hardware, and painted them. We remediated the flooring in one room to prepare for hardwood floors. We installed a new toilet in the upstairs bathroom (except the water thingy is 1/2″ too short…). Since we got a bunch of veggies from the CSA on Thursday, Josh made a big stew, as well as two different kinds of squash, and a focacia bread.

So, after working hard all day in grungy clothes doing the above and a bunch of other stuff, we sat down to a candle-light dinner of food that was about the best I’ve tasted from Josh’s cooking–truly spectacular.

We decided other guys doing construction probably don’t do the same thing. :o)

Too busy now, and never fear: I’ll upload a bunch of renovation photos when we’re done. We have to get this house on the market!