Thursday, September 18, 2008

Bob the Builder--Marry Me!

First off, I want to mention how relieved I was to learn that Killer Fiction's Crime Scene Christie and her family, although temporarily displaced by Hurricane Ike, are all safe and sound. That was very good news. I have an idea she'll be blogging about her experiences next week so be sure and drop by.

As for me? This 'never ever ever marry again' confirmed single woman is ready to commit--or maybe that should read 'be committed'.

I need help. I know I do. How could I not? My offspring assure me of this on an daily basis.

Last week I blogged about the 'bug' I'd caught related to home improvement and remodeling projects as I caulked, painted, stained and varnished to turn my formal dining room into a TV room. Well, the bug has, er, spread and it's having some rather unpleasant side effects.

Once I finished the walls of the TV room, my brother and his wife came over and helped me put up the chair rail. Just my luck. It looked fabulous.

Why is that a bad thing, you ask?
It looked so awesome it got me itching to do the same to the bedrooms and the dining area off the living room. And guess what that meant: new two-tone paint jobs for those rooms, as well.
So, this week I dropped by the paint store and the home improvement center on my way home from work. It took me an hour to pick out the paint despite my sis-in-law giving me a home decorating magazine that had the paint combo I wanted to use. But the big problems awaited me when I went to pick out the lumber for the chair rail. I needed ten boards of varying lengths from 12 feet to 8 feet. The moulding came only in 16 feet lengths.

And the customer was supposed to cut their own boards.

Now, this may not seem like a daunting task, but did you catch the part about the boards being SIXTEEN FEET LONG! You should have seen me try to maneuver those boards out of the upright bin they were in and get them down to floor level without hitting something or maiming an unsuspecting fellow customer in the process.

Once you get the board down so you can eyeball it for flaws, the fun really begins. A number of the boards had boo boos which meant putting that board aside and retrieving a new one. I was beginning to attract some attention by the time I had 15 boards stacked on the floor. Unfortunately, none of that attention came from a nice, helpful 'Bob the Builder' type employee.
I managed to get all but 3 of the boards selected & cut when a clerk happened by. I was on him quicker than I've been on caramel apples lately. His eyes got big as apples when he saw the stack of boards (and remnants of my board cutting) littering the aisle.

I inquired as to whether he could assist me in cutting the final boards. Clearly he had better things to do, but he grudingly agreed and took the final three boards, measured them and lopped them off with a hand saw, rather than the one provided with the miter box. I stared as they dropped to the floor. Nice. Hadn't he ever heard of a square edge or a ninety degree angle?
I went in search of a wheeled cart to transport my moulding, nabbed one with a bad wheel, brought it back, loaded it up and headed to the checkout.

I gave the clerk a list of the number and lengths of my boards.

"I still have to measure all of them," he said and I winced. I wasn't real confident I'd measured all that well.

He went through them and got to the final three the grumpy clerk had cut.

"You sure you want these?" he asked. "The ends are banged up."

By this time I was ready to saw something--and it wasn't chair rail.

I stomped back to the moulding aisle, found two more boards, and a miracle! A helpful, nice clerk who offered to cut the boards for me!

By the time I checked out, it was 8 P.M. I loaded the Jimmy with my moulding. I'd known the longer boards would hang out the back a bit so I figured I'd wrap them with a blanket and raise the back glass of the Jimmy and they'd be fine.

Only I'd forgotten rope to tie the back hatch down.

I tied it with an Ethernet cord left in my Jimmy from my daughter's move to college.
It was dark by the time I pulled out of the parking lot on my 45 minute drive home. With the back hatch up, I had to drive all the way home with the friggin' dome light on. I'm sure folks driving alongside me could see my lips moving as they passed me.

Hello. I was singing.

What? You don't believe I was singing? You think I was saying naughty words?

Actually, I was asking God if Bob the Builder was taken. 'cause I'm thinking of proposing.


BTW, pics of all my home improvement projects (aka 'Mom's Obsession' to my kids) are coming soon!

Have a super rest of the week and a wonderful weekend!

~Bullet Hole~


Terri Osburn said...

I think of myself as resourceful until I read one of your blogs. LOL! I never could have done that. If I ever buy a house, as much as I'd love to fix it up my way, I doubt it will ever happen. Not unless I find my own Bob the Builder.

Can't wait to see the pictures!

Gemma Halliday said...

You are my hero, Kathy.

I'm with Terrio - I can't wait to see the pics!!!

Keri Ford said...

I'm ready for pics! Great job rigging things together...that's the way to keep the spirit up.

by the way...just because you marry a man that's a bit handy, that doesn't mean you'll get any help out of him!

Kathy Bacus said...

I'm pretty much a trial by error do-it-yourselfer, Terrio, with emphasis on the 'error' part here.

It's been a productive day. One bedroom is all painted and the chair rail stained with one coat of urethane.

But it would be nice to have a 'Bob' handy (in more ways than one) to lend a hand.

~Bullet Hole~

Kathy Bacus said...

Ah, thanks, Gemma. {Bullet Hole blushing}

The worst part of any home improvement project is the clean up. I hate washing out paint brushes.

~Bullet Hole~

Kathy Bacus said...

The old 'you can lead a handy man to the altar, but you can't make him help'. Man, Keri, you sure know how to throw the cold bucket of reality on a gal's matrimonial flights of fancy.


~Bullet Hole~

Lucy said...

When you're finished with your house, let me know - I'll give you directions to mine. :)

Christie Craig said...


You amaze me. I'm contractor/plumber’s daughter and I couldn't use saw if my life depended on it.

And how did you know I'd be blogging about Ike? Jeepers, what an experience.

But thanks for thinking about me.