st louis « Robin Writes

My husband has been out the farm for a week now, working his tail off. I arrived last Monday in time for the appliance and tile delivery.

Too much tile. Way too much tile.

See, they were supposed to deliver all this stuff on November 16, then rescheduled to November 30, because they were still waiting on the tile. The problem was that they were waiting on the tile we’d canceled because the guy had written up and charged us for the WRONG tile. We were refunded the wrong stuff and ordered the right stuff within minutes of the first order. Minutes.

Well, anyway, they took back the wrong stuff. Of course, I’m wondering what else got messed up . . .

Oh, yeah. The cabinets. They arrived Tuesday, and I have to say, I was impressed with the delivery—both of them, actually. The first guys were hilarious—coming out from STL, it was probably the first time they’d been out in the boonies. The second guys—and one gal, come to think of it—arrived three hours ahead of schedule.

So here’s what the living room looked like that day:

Tile, appliances, etc. were still in the barn and thank goodness—here’s what the “bedroom” looked like:

Between Monday and Tuesday, I learned how to put down cement board. Gee, that’s fun. The drill took off a strip of skin on my thumb—from using it, not from the bit itself—and I have a couple blisters. Yay.

And then we opened up the cabinets. Took me three trips in the truck to the burn pile. It looks like Mount Cardboard up there. Sadly, no pics!

So the base cabinets got set. Remember now, we ordered this stuff the end of October, so I’d pretty much forgotten all the cool stuff—a bread box, a knife drawer, pull-out spice racks and pan holders, and a mixer shelf that lifts up. And the wine racks, of course.

Then it was time for the wall cabinets. Oops.

Between me and my math skills—okay, not “skills” but whatever—and the new guy who helped me design the kitchen, the wall cabinets were a little, um, off. Just a little. So. We ended up running into town to order two more and to return two. That was fun.

More fun, however, was calling the next day after I realized the fifteen-inch cabinet we had opened to the right, not the left. It really does make a difference if the damn thing is sitting on the floor upside down . . .

I had to head back to STL on Thursday, but our friend Ed came down to help. He arrived just as the counter guy was finishing the template for the granite, and he and my husband installed the microwave and the ovens—and I can’t wait to see them in person!

But here they are; you’re getting to see all that *I* got to see:

They’re cement-boarding and tiling the rest of the weekend, while I, sadly, am stuck at my desk. And decorating for Christmas. And paying bills.

So. Not. Fair.

Kind of have a dilemma here. Since it’s a holiday week and all, I’m going to combine a few posts. I know, I know, you’re thinking, “Crap, and she slacked off last week too!”

Oops. Sorry.

So. Let’s start with prepping:

Around here, folks, it’s getting chilly. Last weekend, at the farm, it was 19 degrees when I got up Saturday morning. Insulation of one’s home is very, very important . . . we knew it was great, because we can’t hardly hear a thing outside when all the windows and door are closed.

Fortunately, they say it’s better to sleep in a colder room than a hot one, because that 19 degrees translated into 55 in the house!

We do not have central heat—and we usually turn the thermostat to 68 at night when we’re in town—but we do have an electric fireplace that’s set to turn off about two hours after we go to bed, and we have a shop heater in the bathroom (turned off overnight) and a heater on rollers in the bedroom area.

And an electric mattress pad.

This is the known around our house as The Best Thing Ever. Nothing beats it for keeping warm, and it’s great for sore muscles too, at the end of the day. That, with a heavy quilt, will keep you toasty.

Until you get up. Ha.

Dressing for the weather, too, is something to consider. Thermal underwear, layers, or even those battery-operated warming boot soles that keep cropping up in my newsfeed . . . Shivering burns calories, which can sometimes be good—like the week after Thanksgiving—but in a survival situation, you’ll be limiting calories in the first place, and a warm night’s sleep will do wonders for your physical health and mental outlook.

Moving on to the remodel:

Last week, the kitchen came out—all but the refrigerator, which got shoved over to block the lean-to door. Good thing we aren’t using that lean-to just yet.

Of course, this also requires some cooking/kitchen adjustments:

But—NEXT week, you’ll get to see the progress on the NEW kitchen! Yay! Oh, and while the guys were busy, I set up and wired the CB base unit. Pretty sure, though, that someone else will be installing that 30-foot antenna on the roof . . . pretty darn sure it won’t be me!

And finally, Fan Friday: Man vs Woman, or “Things I’ve Learned this Week:”

My husband occasionally needs my help with projects, not just the ones we work on together. I’ve learned, over almost 19 years, to wait at least ten minutes before jumping up and running to his side to hold something or whatever.

Unless, of course, it’s an urgent situation with “Hurry, dammit!” thrown in there.

But typically, if I come a’runnin’, I have to stand there and wait for at least five minutes while he recalculates or refigures something. Or looks for a part or a tool. No, guys, five minutes isn’t long unless your wife is standing in one spot listening to you mutter to yourself and wondering if you’re talking to her.

See, if a woman needs help, say, in the kitchen—am I being sexist? Too bad. That’s how we roll around here. Well, not really sexist, but I guarantee you that he’s the one that calls for help with a project and I’m the one in the kitchen—she’ll call you in and hand you a jar and say, “Open it, please.”

There I go again. Sorry. Men ARE typically stronger than women, so deal with it.

But she won’t leave you standing there for five minutes.

Part II of Man vs Woman:

When you, a dude, walk into a kitchen where your wife is preparing a meal, you need to realize that she’s not only chopping an onion, for example, but she’s timing the asparagus in the oven, mulling over which dish to start prepping next, and wondering if she has enough of that one type of seasoning.

While trying to hide the birthday cake topper for the 18-year-old’s cake, in case he actually wanders out of his room before the dinner bell sounds.

Okay, we don’t actually have a dinner bell, and he’s gonna love this cake. Or hate it. Heh.

My point is that, walking into the kitchen and not seeing the mop bucket by the door should NOT prompt the question, “Where’s the mop bucket?”

The bucket is either by the door, outside the door, or emptied and put away and in the laundry closet.

LOOK FOR IT.

If, and only if, it’s not in one of three usual places, THEN you can ask. You are not interrupting the onion-chopping, women are very good at multitasking, you are interrupting her train of thought.

And before anyone says something like, “Your husband USES the mop bucket??” I will tell you that yes, he does. And the reason it wasn’t by the door was because he left it there yesterday, instead of taking it outside and emptying it, and I moved it.

And he did bring it in and he did use it and then put it outside again.

But here’s the cake. What do you think? Too much flashback for the kid?