I don’t know if it was the recent arrow attack that convinced him to see things my way, but Mr. Wonderful has finally given me the perfect gift: my very own power drill. He either has a new level of trust with me. Or … he’s just gone ahead and given up.
Hide
For years he has regularly removed all the power tools from the house so I can’t get my hands on them when he’s not there to monitor the situation. This is entirely fair. I tend to put holes in things pretty much willy-nilly. I am permitted a hammer and nails. Very SMALL nails, mind you. He will claim (okay, it’s true) that behind every piece of art hung in our home, there are at least a half dozen holes. How else am I supposed to know when something is at just the right height and level? Measuring tapes are for suckers. Who has time for that?
Basically, I bring the “demo” to every DIY project. That’s where the real adventure is after all. In every home renovation program, there is the required “demo” scene where they kick or sledgehammer … something. Then a few “crisis” moments (always resolved right after the commercial break and rarely requiring a complete rework of the plan). Then the bulk of the show will be someone – usually a female partner – picking out finishes, art, and decor while “staging” with lots of furniture. The latter does not have anything to do with the structure but it’s arguably the most enjoyable part of the entire renovation. I know structure matters but I have never once been that excited picking out drywall mud.
He knows that I can own every appropriate tool and I am still going to break the arm of my couch because I stood on it to reach my curtain rods. Yes, I have a nice assortment of ladders around here. To retrieve one requires effort, planning, and shoes. Much better to do a very poor rendition of an inebriated ballerina balancing on something precarious.
Honestly, if you aren’t causing your spouse to gasp audibly, are you even married?
When I’m not putting holes in things like it’s my JOB I like to putter around moving decor that my husband believes in his heart is “perfectly fine the way it was.”
Redecorate
A lot of discussion lately has been about the demise of “farmhouse decor.” The trend exploded about a decade ago and saturated homes in gray and white, bleached or painted wood, shiplap siding, and lots of white slip-covered furniture. So much white. At this point someone inevitably points out the obvious: few actual farmhouses would ever feature so much WHITE.
It’s a trend just like any other. They come and go. The 1970s “Early American” was similarly not at all related to the trend it was named after. I wasn’t there but I think it is fairly well established that the early Americans did not actually have plaid sofas, plastic Eagle plaques, or shag carpet in their homes. Can you imagine shag carpet in a colonial home? Betsy Ross would never have finished our flag. She’d have spent all her time picking ashes out of that deep pile and telling everyone to TAKE OFF THEIR SHOES.
Back to my “farmhouse” kitchen that is in an actual farmhouse. Our kitchen has always been white. I love a white kitchen. My mother had a white kitchen. My great-grandmother’s had a white kitchen that was state of the art – in 1930. All this to say I don’t think white kitchens are so much trendy as they are classic. White is clean and my kitchen is one place I’m definitely not looking to “hide the dirt.” White just works. That said, I have decided that we need to repaint our cabinets this spring. I like white but they are currently a bright snow white. I would prefer a warmer, “creamy” white. The decor minded get this. The rest of you just said “What?”
Mr. Wonderful, who is the brains behind most of my DIY operations, has accepted this fate. “We” will be removing, sanding, and spraying a whole kitchen full of cabinetry. He says “later this spring” but I feel like it’s game on as soon as we get a few nice days. He’s been married a good long time. He knows that “when you get a chance” really means just go ahead and start putting your shoes on. “We” mean now.
