Yesterday was a doozie! Remember how i woke up wishing the day was already over, feeling all “achy breaky”? how i went on and on about motherhood and its responsibilities even after i promised i wouldn’t? Clearly nothing is written in stone and one can not ever assume anything. Just when you have it all figured out, when you are cruising along with your auto drive on, along comes that giant pot hole you have to avoid and throws the whole day out of your assumed balance. Darren and i have been suffering in silence over this whole sheet rock issue. My beautiful old house is cracked, literally, form head to toe. i am speaking of her original plaster walls. There are cracks that run all 11 feet of wall height, huge holes at “punch the wall” height, chunks of ceiling missing from various leaks over the years, and the occasional “slam the doorknob into the wall” injuries. Apparently the common method of repair down here is 1/4 inch sheet rock slapped up in no time by a bunch of scurrying men on stilts and scaffolding. Good as new, cracks gone and all that beautiful old horse hair plaster covered for eternity. i asked about re-plastering and was told the price was out of sight and these men of a special skill no longer exist. i succumbed to the inevitable and i hated myself. In the middle of scraping the melted rubber matting of an ancient, butt ugly rug off my wood floors (pictures included) i heard the twang of a new voice visiting with my darling Darwin. The skies had opened and my plaster man had appeared! He is a neighbor, a plasterer, a fixer of all things and best yet, he will fix my walls for ONE HALF the price of the sheet rockers! Do i hear Amen Sister? Darren is a happy boy, he has found a man friend that will teach him the secrets of old house renovation. i am happy because there is now several thousand extra dollars available to put towards, dare i say it, a pool.
Callum managed a good six hours of watching us toil before his eyes started to twitch, finally giving me that “time to go” look. The late afternoon routine at the rental didn’t vary much yesterday, showers, movies, moans of pain… me getting lost in an ipad game… dinner time for the dogs approached just as the daily thunderstorms started rolling in. My freaky, highly medicated dog “Frank” is our thunder alerter. We don’t need to emergency “beep beep beep” sound and the scrolling message on the t.v. to know what is coming. Frank freaks, shakes, pants and curls up in a corner. We know what is ahead. It seemed the storms were going to miss us so the dogs were fed, medicated and let out in our fenced back yard. Only 3 came back (for those of you counting, we have 4). Frank was gone. We assumed he jumped the fence, my worse fear because of the heavy traffic, drainage ditches, and people with guns. Darren searched and called for nearly two hours, by car and by foot. He found all sorts of new friends and neighborhoods but no Frankie. It was getting dark and i was considering taking some of Frankie’s anti-anxiety meds. The yappy dog next door was frantic and beginning to piss me off when i heard another muffled bark. i knocked on the large garden shed in the back yard and i heard “thump, thump, thump”. Frank was stuck under the shed, his freakiness of thunder had forced him into a crawl space not big enough for my pug! One strong husband and car jack later, Freaky Frank was rescued! Darren is my hero, i will sleep soundly and Callum has his cuddle pillow back. All is right with the world… except of course Frank, who as embarrassed as he was, will live to see another thunderstorm… enjoy!