Finally! The Big Announcement

I'll bet you thought this announcement had something to do with our 37-year anniversary and the fact that I gave Dean a trip to Portland to celebrate. No, not a trip alone to get away from me; he should be so lucky. This is a chance to get away from the BFD and visit the city he mentions, on average, once a month. "Powells Books is there", he says with reverence and awe in his voice, "and art galleries" and (sigh) "lots and lots of brew pubs". So we're off ... but not til September. We can't leave until we've conquered the wooden monstrosity.

Or maybe you thought I was going to announce we'd finished the BFD so you wouldn't have to read about it anymore. If only we were all that lucky. Sadly, that is not the announcement. However since we're on the topic of the BFD -- we were back out there again this Sunday morning in a bit of a panic. We foolishly allowed ourselves to sleep in this Sunday morning and enjoy a lazy breakfast of Dean's famous buttermilk pancakes, and my too-strong-for-anybody-else coffee. As is my habit on Sunday mornings I read the paper and drink coffee as Dean's cooking breakfast. This Sunday morning I made the mistake of reading the weather outloud to Dean. "Possible rain showers are predicted for the next five days." The guaranteed to last four years waterproofer needs 24 hours to dry so that was the end of the lazy breakfast. I hadn't even finished my last bite of pancake before Dean was hauling out the brushes and buckets and slathering on sunscreen .

There's alot of time to think while you're doing this

to touch up this

See the unpainted bit between the boards? Just not acceptable.

I was thinking of lots of things; like how if we would have taken three minutes to check the web we would have known that Fort Collins moved its farmers market from Saturday to Sunday. And yesterday Saturday when we drove there to give ourselves a break from the (surprise!) BFD, we found not tables and tables of veggies and fruits, but an empty parking lot with a sign. And if we would have know there wasn't a farmers market to rush to, maybe I could have slept in past 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday.

And I thought about the protest march we walked into heading back to our car. We were going in opposite directions both physically and ideologically. Bless their little hearts, all the blue-haired folks probably just forgot that the Medicare benefits they're currently receiving are coming to them via a government-run program. The same type of government run program they were protesting. I suppose the young ones just never think they'll get sick. And the folks that came of age in the 60s, well, I can understand how their brains may not be functioning at full capacity anymore. And then I thought about how I saw more Obama bumper stickers during the three hours I was in Fort Collins than I have in the past two years in Wyoming and my faith in humankind was restored.

I wondered whether my ankle, yes, ankle, would cramp again this Sunday morning (it did not) like it did the other night because I have found no ergonomically correct way to waterproof the deck. The tried and true cramp remedy of grabbing your toes and pulling up at the same time you are pushing down on your knee does not work when that foot is bending back and up, trying to align itself perpendicularly (is that a word?) with your lower leg. It hurts. Alot. When Dean and I rise from the deck, we do it very slowly and tend to say alot of "oh, ahhhhhh, ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, mmmmmmmmmmmm, phew, ohhhhh", and, for the first few steps appear to be walking like we have an invisible walker. The other night when my ankle cramped, the noises I made as I was walking around the far end of the BFD didn't even register with Dean. "oh ... oh ... OH, OH, oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." Finally, as I was bent over clutching the rail, I heard a soft voice say "cramp?" and then he went back to brushing.

Dean's hopes of finishing the BFD by the end of the weekend were dashed but we did make noticable progress. Even if we would have stayed home yesterday Saturday, it got up to 95 degrees and that's too hot to apply the guaranteed to last four years waterproofer anyway. That's what he's telling himself anyway. I don't really care. I'm sick of the BFD, which, as of Sunday night has had reached this point.

I asked Dean what he thinks about during the hours we're out on the evil wooden monster and, other than wondering if he'd caught Abby's head-squeezing-energy-sucking-drooling's-better-than-swallowing-knock-you-down-flat-cold through the phone lines, (updated Monday night--turns out he did, only not as severe), the thing he'd been thinking about most was the topic that occupied most of my time on the BFD this morning; the topic that has been occupying my mind a good share of the time since I learned of it; the topic I've been waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting (Been waiting since Tuesday ... Wednesday ... Friday ... Sunday---I give up and write the post so I'm ready ... Dang that cold! ... still waiting Monday night. ...waiting ANOTHER Tuesday.....Tuesday afternoon ... still waiting ... THIS IS KILLIN' ME ...FINALLY--NOW!) to tell you; the true topic of this post. And that topic is THIS!

We are doing the happy dance. (If you're thinking "why are they doing the happy dance? The BFD isn't even finished" go back up and click on THIS!) Yes, Dean and I. I'm on my tippy toes; my arms are above my head and I am twirling, twirling, twirling around. Dean is up, on the toes of two feet, no, down, now up on one foot, on his toes, he's holding on to the back of the couch, yeeeessss, almost, on tippy toes on both feet, yes! now one arm up, next arm almost up, almost ... one foot down, back up, left arm down, back up, starting to turn, just a little, ... tipping, tipping, tipping, ... caught by the end table ... that's okay, I didn't like that lamp anyway, ... I know, it's those white athletic socks ... they slip ... Okay, that was my imagination. In reality Dean would have been wearing his sandals along with those white athletic socks and thus would not have slipped. He still wouldn't have twirled as good as me, though. We are very happy and excited for Abby and Jorge. Can you tell? We welcome Jorge to our family with open arms.

Wait ... what's that feeling? ... It's a twinge ... in my brain ... now my fingers are twitching ... starting to move ... a post ... I feel a future post coming on ... current and ... future ... sons-in-law ... crazy ... in-laws ... oh, ... it's out of my control ... the fingers ... stop ...
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Finally! The Big Announcement

HOW long?

Thirty-seven years tomorrow.

Thir ... ty ... Se ... ven years living with the same person ... tomorrow. Wow.

I have something I so much want to tell you all. Oh, how I want to tell you all... well, the five or six of you who might be reading this ... but I shouldn't ... not yet ... tomorrow? Maybe ... I hope so ... it's pretty exciting ... I'm excited anyway ... but I can't tell you ... not now ... later...

In the meantime there has been progress on the BFD which continues to occupy our spare time. There are now new rails on the narrow, smaller (smaller being a relative term) end of the deck which requires only a bunch more spindles and top rails to complete it (complete being a relative term). Of course, now that this project is almost over, our assembly line procedure has reached near perfection. If there was another BFD needing the same repairs I'm sure we could do it in half the time, or three-fourths the time, or at least a couple of days hours quicker; as if we would ever be stupid enough to do that. If this deck ever needs new planks, support beams, spindles, top rails or stairs again during my lifetime, I vote for moving.

One of the steps Dean stumbled upon to increase the efficiency, and speed up the process of this whole project, has been to waterproof the rails and spindles before he screws them on. Since that step didn't begin occurring til near the end of this project (see above near perfection), it means we had to go back and waterproof all the parts we've already installed. And, since he was tired of waterproofing the deck every year, he did some research, actually asked some questions (I know, who knew, men do know how to ask questions---if it doesn't involve directions) and purchased some super duper, guaranteed to last four years deck waterproofing stuff.

You'd think we could just slop it on those planks and be done with it, but remember, this is the guy who made us wash all the rocks from under the deck before we could put them back. So what do you think the step before waterproofing was? If your guess involved water, a special scrubbing broom and special stuff to scrub off mildew from redwood, you're right!

The dreaded mildew.

Oh, how I wish I had a picture of me scrubbing ... you'll just to trust that I scrubbed this.

As I was scrubbing with this specially designed mildew-scrubbing brush, it occurred to me that I probably didn't really need to feel guilty about not making it to the gym. I was sweating, my heart rate was nearing cardio range and I was sculpting my arms. And I didn't even have to pay a membership to do it.

This is August, and it should have been so warm that the newly scrubbed deck would have dried quickly, but no. Instead of global warming we seem to be on the edges of the next ice age.

Yes, that's frost on the roof....in mid-AUGUST!

So out came the fan, not to cool us off, but to speed the drying of the deck so we could move on to the next step. It was like hearing a prop plane warming up....for hours. I'm sure our neighbors really enjoyed the background noise as they ate dinner on their patio.

Once the required washing, scrubbing, rinsing, and sort-of-drying was completed, it was time for the rolling-on of the special guaranteed to last four years waterproofing stuff. When we started the rolling-on process the sun was still shining.

As we rolled and rolled and rolled and rolled, the sun got lower and lower and lower and the temperature got cooler and cooler and cooler. I donned a sweatshirt and Dean kept complaining about his toes being cold. I would have felt sorry for him but he'd switched out boots for sandals. I can't dress him all the time.

After an eight-hour day at work (for some of us) this process began at approximately 3:00 p.m. At about 5:30 p.m. we had a quick piece of warmed up pizza, and at 8:30 p.m., after the first coat of guaranteed to last four years waterproofing was on, we ate a boy do we deserve this guilt-free ice cream bar. Then it was back out for the final coat ... in the dark.

Note the stocking hat and sandals.

By 10:30 p.m. the prop plane/fan was turned off, the lights on the deck were back in the house, and the painting equipment was cleaned. Boy, that was fun ...

Finished (finished being a relative term).

Now all we need to do is go back out and touch up all the places we missed while we were rolling, and rolling and rolling in the cool, cool, cool air during the dark. But Dean told me that because it's our anniversary we don't have to work on the deck for Two whole days. He's a prince!

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HOW long?

Worth a Thousand Words

Yesterday after I had posted about my golfing experience, I received this timely gift in the mail from my very astute sister.


Today, in honor of the 40th anniversary of Woodstock, Dean donned his Doo Rag for our weekend deck work.


I like to think of it as his Do Rag because I have a list a mile long of things waiting for him to do once the BFD is finished. I know he'll be thrilled to do them.◦

Worth a Thousand Words

FORE!

Recently my sister grabbed her husband by his overalls, pulled him off the farm, and they came out for a long-awaited and much anticipated visit. I'd planned a few activities designed to awe and amaze them. Such as ...

a coal mine tour...

And Dave thought his combine was big!

and crawling up...





walking on...







and crawling down

Yes, it's really as high as it looks.

Independence Rock.

However, I'm convinced the activity they enjoyed most was when we allowed them

to cook for us.

Surprisingly, my sister announced that she had her own activity planned. They had brought their very own golf clubs with their very own special fuzzy golf club covers and they wanted to golf with us. Say what? ... you want to ... with us? ... at a real golf course? ... uh ... okay.

Off to the city golf course we went. Some of us went with excitement and anticipation; some of us with fear and trepidation. Shelly called ahead to make sure we didn't need special golfing shirts with collars (uh, nooooooo, this is the municipal golf course) however it turned out sharing golf clubs is frowned upon, even at the muni.



So Dean and I rented golf clubs. Our clubs didn't come with those fancy, fuzzy golf club covers. Mine did come in a dirty, scratched beautiful pink bag though, which made up for their absence.

It turns out Dean apparently has some inherent golfing ability and a nice swing. That's what I kept hearing anyway. "nice swing", "you're a natural", "you should take up golf". Whereas directed at me was, "just put that chunk of dirt and grass back in the hole and step on it", "good job...you hit the ball" after my ball hit the tree, bounced off and rolled back to me,"yeah, hit it again ... no, the person furthest hits first ... yup, you again ...again ..."



In the end I concluded it was a successful first outing since I didn't hit an antelope or any of my fellow golfers.



I used to think that Fore! meant "Watch me hit the ball because I'm really good." But now I know that Fore! really means "DUCK! a golf ball is careening through the trees from another fairway and it's going to land about a foot away from where you are getting ready to swing". I gloated a bit believing that somebody else out there was worse than me. Geez, even I kept my ball in my own fairway. But then it occurred to me that if their ball was winging its way toward us, it meant they not only could hit it further than a ten-foot grounder but they could hit it in the air. But on the bright side, I can only get better. Right?◦

FORE!

Out With The Old

No, I don't mean I'm getting rid of Dean although I won't deny the thought crossed my mind as I was writing my last post ... only for a half a second, honey. No, I have been forced to replace my loyal, reliable, and dependable dryer.

Goodbye my friend.

You were there waiting when we moved into the house of our dreams.



The house I swore to Dean he would have to drag me out of kicking and screaming. Four years later you moved with us to our current home with nary a whimper. You were older than Garfield and ABC World News Tonight. You were older than the first test-tube baby. You were as old as my first-born child. You survived the tumultuous teenage years when you were berated for shrinking clothing. Throughout your long, hard-working life you suffered only one minor illness and recovered quickly. But nine years ago the signs and symptoms of your aging body began to appear.

You fought valiantly through them, refusing to give in to the creaks and groans of old age. You were a true companion but you have earned your rest in that special dryer retirement scrap yard home. I will miss the thunderous, wall-shaking pounding that emanated from your body and kept me company for the past nine years. Farewell my faithful friend.

Hello brand new, energy-efficient, quiet new friend! I welcome you with open arms of wet clothing.



I loved you ... and then ... I walked back in during our first cycle together and discovered the laundry room had become a sauna. I loved you til I had to pull you out to try and reattach the dryer hose and there wasn't room to squeeze in so I had to also pull out the washing machine which was in mid-wash and full of water. I know my anger was mis-placed and I should have been mad at the guy who brought you to me two hours late, but he was gone and you were there. I loved you until I had to contort into a pretzel to get the hose attached and then push back the washing machine still full of water, and you, now wet with the moisture from a humid laundry room. I loved you til I had everything back in place and the pipe leading from you to the outside dryer vent fell off amidst a shower of old lint and dirt. I loved you until I couldn't get the pipe back up myself and I had to drag Dean down to do it. I loved you til we Dean had to pry the wiring away from the pipe to get it attached. His head had lint balls on it. There were words.

You are now attached to all your pipes and hoses and duct-taped up for good measure. And now you are working again and the laundry room is dry. You are so quiet when I turn you on that my heart jumps in fear you are broken. Clothes are drying so fast the washing machine can't keep up with you and is developing a complex. I love you again.

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Out With The Old

Living In Disneyland

It occurred to me today that marriage is like living in Disneyland. There's the excitement and anticipation of a life with your Prince Charming (waiting in line for tickets), the proposal (finally arriving at the ticket window), the engagement ring (fast pass), and the wedding (entering the hallowed gates). Marriage is everything you had hoped for (you never have to wait for a ride). As time goes on, life with your Prince Charming is good and you support each other through the ups and downs of a life together (puking after the Mad Teacups ride). Many years pass, you raise children, (Mr. Toad's Wild Ride) and as you each evolve and mature, over time you (Cruella de Vil) and your Prince Charming (Goofy) develop your own unique married-person language that goes something like this:

I'm leaving for work (arms outstretched for a hug), I What do you mean you're hope you leaving? You enjoy your field have to drop me off trip. You at the didn't hotel! tell me I had Yes, I to take did. you. You I can't take were worried about you. how you'd get your car in. I have to drop my car How else off at Honda. I told will I get you last week. there? No, I only I can't leave wondered my car at the who hotel for could pick three me up days. We since you talked about this. would be You gone. knew that you had to I take me! didn't know. Yes, I you did did not. Fine. Okay. Let's go. (Big Thunder Mountain Railroad).◦

Living In Disneyland