We Want a Shrubbery!

Saturday was actually a productive day. The hubby was outside looking manly without his shirt ripping out the endless amount of weeds and shrubbery that have taken over the backyard. Really, I think his zealousness to clear it out has more to do with his latest idea of putting a horse-shoe pitch area in the back. All I can see is people wildly throwing rings, flying over to the neighbors' yards, whacking someone in the head, or hitting the old fence that's barely standing and knocking it over, giving that crazy shepherd mix free-reign over our yard. That poor gal is starved for attention. Last week, she jumped our fence (she is bouncy - she can jump a 6 foot fence), but was tied out so she was hanging perilously over, with her chain tied to her collar. To make matters worse her leg stuck between two broken fence boards. I freed her (didn't get any thanks from her) but hopefully she'll think twice about making the leap again.

I spend the day painting the downstairs bedroom (the office) a pale shade of blue. At first, I opened the can and was like "Crap! This looks like the color of an old t-shirt. And I have two whole un-returnable gallons!". Luckily, the color in the can is deceptive. It turned out blue, a little lighter than I expected, but still, not old-t-shirt-white. I am liking it. It took a couple hours to do two coats and touch up the ceiling (which was already bad to begin with). The living room is a disaster area with all the office furniture and boxes in there. At one point there was a knock at the door and I was in no mood to be sold anything by anyone or have some neighbor complaining about whatever our latest transgression was. I open the door and there is a biker chick standing there, with her helmet on, looking for "Melanie." Definitely, wrong house. Hopefully she found her. She probably took a look at our mess an was like "Um, yeah, this is not Melanie's house."

Rather than drag my butt to Mysore this morning (I went to led First Series yesterday with my paint-splattered feet, which must have made people think "What's up with this girl,what foot disease does she have?") because I was sore from the day before (first practice in over a week after being sick, and the whole Rusty-thing), I stayed home and attempted to make some process on the hanging of my new faux-wood blinds before I trudged off to work. I have hung two other blinds like this one, up stairs in the other bedrooms, and every time it is an absolute cluster-f**k. Every time. Something is wrong with my window frames. They must have stone behind the studs or something, because it takes all my arm strength and 30 minutes to get one of the screws into the wall to hang the bracket. Now, you might be thinking "She probably has wimpy arms with no muscle". Not true, my friends. After drilling pilot holes and starting brand-new calluses on my right palm, I reached for the drill and made sure I was pushing down as hard as I could and the drill even balked. Not the stripping the screw baulk where it goes of the track, but it stuttered in futility because it couldn't turn it anymore. I finally got the screw in after taking it out a third time and re-drilling the pilot hole to be as deep as I could possibly make it, and it still required significant muscling to get it all the way in. Thankfully, I was able to keep calm during the process. I think some less patient folks would have broken down and resorted to swearing and throwing things, but I just breathed and kept trying different options.

What we do in the name of decorating. But this pain is worth not paying someone $50 to install it, and I when it's finally done, I won't have to look at horrible 80's vertical blinds (in that room) again!


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