So Gwen Bell is fabulous. No, really. She astounds me in the way that other bloggers & social networking divas who do this for a living (more on that later, hopefully in 2010) astound & amaze me. I write because I love it. I write because strangely, people enjoy reading my inane ramblings regarding my sex life, uterus, & kid. But to get paid to write? Heavenly.
I’m getting off topic. Like I said, that is a huge elephant topic best kept for 2010.
Back to Gwen, mmkay? She is “hosting” (for lack of a better word) what I like to call a “blogging catalyst” – things that make you thing, lists, a way to socialize, a way to share your life. There are tons of those around, including Kelly’s Share Your Life & The Nester’s Christmas Tour of Homes. I love these things. & in my dreams & scribbled notes that are lying all over the house, McFatty Mondays will be similar as a way to share our lives, instigating blogging & social networking.
Oh, my God. I have ADD today, no? …maybe I should have said “no” to that third cup of coffee, but he was so persistent & you know how giving I am at the holidays. It was like playing “just the tip,” but with a steaming mug. We’ll call it “just a sip.” ”Here, Blair,” said the third cup of coffee. ”Just a sip. I promise, it won’t hurt. I just want you to try it.”
But like I said previously, I really don’t want to discuss how I lost my virginity on here.
BACK TO GWEN. & her Best of ’09 series. FOCUS.
I have loved perusing the Best of ’09 links throughout December & even had the itch to participate a few times, but never really took it on because I’m in that weird mode of being ridiculously sappy about my child as I reflect on the year, finding myself redundant even in a blog challenge. Best project? Harrison. Best challenge? Harrison. Best new person I met? Harrison. Best packaging? Harrison, in my uterus. HARRISON, HARRISON, HARRISON. My God, is that all I did this year?!?
yeah, pretty much.
Minus that time that Nate & I fixed our screened porch. The only activity this year that required more profanity & exasperated glares at my spouse than the nursery. I HAVE SOMETHING ELSE TO WRITE ABOUT. HALLELUJAH.
Screened porches are pretty much a standard must-have beneath the Mason Dixon line. It was a definite on our list when shopping for a home, along with a formal dining room & garage (next time, I want a linen closet & an actual laundry room). Ours is fantastically high off the ground, which catches amazing breezes along with the ceiling fan, creating a very cool place to drink a beer even when it’s 1,185 degrees outside with 200% humidity.
Well, in theory. Considering we never really used it.
Back in 2007 when we bought our home, we had these fantastically cheap blue chairs that were oh-so-uncomfortable. We owned/fostered another dog, named…well, Foster (that’s a long story for another time, with a sad beginning & happy ending). Foster took out his frustrations on these poor chairs:
& when they were finished, he moved onto the actual porch itself. I WAS DISPLEASED. The railings, the screens, the doors. You name it, he chewed it. How he managed to actually chew & destroy the screens on the other side of those rails still baffles me. On top of dog destruction, the top half screens would fall the moment the wind blew, meaning Nate was tirelessly climbing up & re-stapling every time we had someone over & needed the house to look presentable (don’t you love a company-only honey-do list?). But meant it all had to be replaced, repainted, & we needed new screens. So I called a few places for estimates. My favorite had to be the guy that showed up 45 minutes late, smacking on a cigarette & claiming it would cost $1200 for him to re-staple the screens, without a guarantee of his work.
ARE YOU INSANE OR DO YOU THINK I AM AN IDIOT? A 12 year-old could hold a staple gun & only charge $10.
So I researched some alternative methods, selecting a “track” system. It’s pretty basic – you screw down a base track, spline in the screen, & snap the cover on. Sounds like kindergarten, no? We skipped to Home Depot, bought the supplies, & began ripping down the old screens & covers.
Disclaimer: Nate repeatedly told me he DID NOT WANT TO DO THIS. I literally had to drag him to the check-out at Home Depot, then cattle-prod him into loading the supplies in the car. He tirelessly suggested that we pay someone & I was all, “OH MY GOD, MAN. WE CAN SAVE $5 BY DOING IT OURSELVES. GET ON THE LADDER & START SCREWING OR YOU’RE NEVER GETTING LAID AGAIN.” I’m so compassionate, right?
Nate was right. ::sigh::
Maybe it was because we are not math majors or handymen, so the measuring & cutting became overwhelming. Maybe it was because we picked the hottest week in July to complete this project, meaning we were literally doing the project in our underwear (sorry, neighbors!). Or because splining the screen looks so easy in the brochure, but in reality, it takes 1980′s-worthy Arnold Schwarzenneger muscles. Maybe it was because I was in my third trimester, leaving Nate solo to climb a 20-foot ladder with a drill while he shouted, “Blair, I swear to God…” every time I attempted to scale a piece of furniture to help out. Regardless of the culprit, I was on the phone with The Momma’s handyman that afternoon.
Our Best Change to the Place We Live in 2009
Handyman: $350
Materials: $400
Porch furniture & accessories: $1,000
Really hammering home that you are not handy in any way, shape, or form: PRICELESS.
