set (in his ways)
Twenty years of marriage.
Today I have been married for twenty years. Huh. Well, would ya look at that. I have also officially spent over half my life with him.
He can even still surprise me.
I used to think that being married this long would be boring. Now I would do just about anything for a boring day. I could not even imagine being married to one person – just ONE – for all this time. Now I have one whole person who is my best friend, who pushes me to do better, who knows me better than I know myself, who loves me even when I drive him crazy.
We’ve been joking for the last week or so, trying to hang on for “3 more days” to make it this far. Saying after this, we’re staring down the barrel of another 20.
But oh! How lucky we are to be able to say those things in one breath and plant kisses in another.
Remember how sometimes in the past I’ve written a blog post and you, the audience, are incredulous and amazed? And this one time, one of my friend even said “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse – it DID!”
Actually, I’m kind of shaking my head and laughing, since at this point we’ve been through a LOT and really this is just par for the course now, you know? At any rate, I’ll squash my flair for the dramatic and get on with the storytelling.
I think it was Thursday, late in the day. Ron was working on the septic field part, and the pump we’re installing. It need a plug, and all he had to do was run the wire, plop in a new breaker on the panel and hook it up. Pretty straightforward.
Except, you know, this is our house.
I mean, he did it right – it’s one of those things you either know how to do or you don’t, and if you know how to do it, it’s pretty hard to screw it up barring any ambulance showing up. But apparently just touching the electrical panel has set off a cascade of events to highlight every single ineffective and jerry-rigged piece of wiring in the entire house.
First, the entire right side of the panel kept shutting off. Just the right side. Fearing faulty breakers, Ron replaced a few of them on that side. Great – now we are at the point where at least more than half the house isn’t dark.
Now we’re stuck in the kitchen – a room that has 4 plug sockets, not including the one for the stove, where almost every one is on a different circuit. Every one of them is acting up. Including the stove, which is an entirely different voltage. It works, the clock is on, but now burners and the oven randomly shut down.
The plug behind the fridge has a new plug socket and the wire runs straight from it to the panel. It can’t keep a light on for more than a few seconds.
My office here was on the side of the panel shutting down. Weirdly enough, our bedroom is on the other side, so we’ve run an extension cord from there to here so at least we can work without things going *pouf* like they did a few times on Friday.
We’re waiting for the second electrician to call us back. Our phone was out too.
My mom says the house is winning. We kinda sorta joked before that we’d have to replace all the wiring in the house, and it’s looking like a reality.
It’s bigger than I thought. My etsy/ebay/to sell pile that is.
See, in addition to the purging items I don’t want, some of it has been hitting another pile labeled “to sell on the internet”. Mostly destined for Etsy, but some for ebay.
I decided to do a “quick” sort of the to-sell stuff and make two piles. It was scattered around in boxes, and as I lugged each one into my craft room, it got bigger and bigger. I was laying out the “to fix” pile so I could take a picture. The “to fix” pile is any item that needs washing, repairs, a retrofit, or made up into some sort of goods (usually a tote bag) before I could list it.
I lost my floor again.
The whole time I was plowing through it all, the only thing I could think of was apologizing to the husband. You see, as we were taking things *out* of the house, a lot of my scoping out of yard sales and thrift stores has been with an eye for what sells online. (I’m not just guessing here, I’m paying attention to trends, picking up one or two to check out when I get home, and if I hit gold, grab more next time I see some.) So for that past couple of years – especially since we moved, although it started before then, I’ve been amassing things to sell online. In the words of my husband, “We’re supposed to be getting RID of things, not bringing new things IN to the house!”
I did have good plans, I was building a site to sell my own goods from, like my own etsy, run by me. Well, honestly at this point, I haven’t done squat except tear it down and partially rebuild it, twice. Plus I don’t have the time to market it. A slight change in plans, and this past week or two I signed up on etsy, plus listed a few things on ebay – just to start things off.
Well, looking at the stack of items and realizing I could stock a small storefront tells me I’d better get cracking.
And Ron was right. (I hate when that happens.) No more yard sales for me until I make a dent in the pile. I’m feeling especially masochistic and wondering exactly how much I spent. Not all of it I bought; some is my old stuff, some inherited and willing to be let go of, and some just stuff people gave me. All told, I think there’s a good hundred dollars of investment there.
In yard sale prices, that’s quite a pile.
A small list for the curious:
– 28 items of clothing, 16 of them dresses, 21 of the items are vintage
– 6 aprons
– 73 books
– 18 linens of some sort
– 64 patterns, most 30 + years old
– 20 + different craft supply items (in my own defense, some of this is yet more leftovers from my craft store, which has been closed for 6 years)
I’ll be allocating time on the weekends to list items, rather than go yard sailing. And yes I *am* embarrassed with myself.
It was such a beautiful, gorgeous and HOT day, that at some point Ron & I couldn’t work in the office anymore. For one, it was pretty hot. So we tidied up some stuff in the yard, took back tables, and went to the local store for diesel & pepsi. Back home, we got out of the car, and wandered around a bit.
That’s when I heard yelling.
Turns out Ron had smacked his head off the tractor, right where the light was, hitting the edge of the metal. By the time he was able to speak to tell me what was wrong, he had moved his hand and the blood started dripping down his face.
I hustled him in the house, got the cold water running, found the towels, got the bleeding slowed down and had a look. Good thing I already knew head wounds bleed quite a bit. I took a look (I’m the mom, it’s my job) and decided that it was in the area of a possible stitch. Ron said since it was quite a whack to his head, we should go anyway.
So we found the ice pack, made a couple of travel mugs, and again – he LET ME DRIVE. We got in to be seen in relatively short order, and they decided that yes, one stitch would do and a bonus tetanus shot. The nurse said he’d have to take today off, so he turned to me and said “Can I take tomorrow off?” partly to get the nurse laughing. When we were done there, I took a turn through Timmie’s drive through and got him a coffee.
That was enough excitement for one day. Today my mom is coming over (again) and we’re going to a quilt show, then a bit of around-town stuff, hitting the grocery store, then back here. She’s going to help me clean sort and organize something, I’m just not sure what yet. Not that I can’t find anything for her to do, it’s just I don’t know where to start.
Ron and I were in the kitchen, working at our own tasks and staring at the walls a bit. I broke the silence.
“I was just thinking how I need to finally paint the kitchen walls.”
“Yes, you do. ” (My husband. So agreeable.)
“Actually,” I continued, “What I really thought of was saying how you needed to help me finish up the rest of the walls and get started on the painting, but then I figured you’d say something about how I was the one who wanted to do it, therefore it was my job and you have too many projects on the go already and don’t need me adding to your list any more than I am already and then I would have said you have a point and I really need to get at this.”
He dried off his hands. “I’m glad we had this chat.”