Rich was in a big hurry after the contractors got to the house. He decided to run his errands in town and I was to stay at home for the plumbers and the construction crew.
Well I did. I found two more beat up buckets for my marigolds and petunias. I figured this summer that I'd make my flowers movable so when the construction was done, I could move the planters around the porch.
The porch is now the place to hang out. It is quieter than inside the house during the day.
Just ask Morris.
Morning views from the porch are exceptional. I can see that we will be spending a ton of time on said porch.
Morning View from the Porch
Our relaxing spot
Yesterday he finished re-stringing the gelding mule pasture in the woods and let them out. Today he was going to finish re-stringing fence and let the Dexter cattle out on their summer pasture.
I'd offered to do this a few weeks ago but he'd told me that he needed to do it.
I'd reminded him that last year I made electric fence all by myself and moved all of our animals onto our summer pastures too.
He told me no, that he'd do it. He sort of indicated that I wasn't capable.
Well that kind of steamed me so I decided to sit back and let him do it in his own good time.
[Which of course is different than my own good time...]
When he returned he backed his pickup as close to the shed as he could get. The plumbers and the contractor's truck were parked close in as they had supplies in their trucks.
So Mr. I am In a Hurry, came out of the shed and made tried to hustle over to his truck across the gravel. In that section of our 'dooryard' there are large breaker run gravel that still poke up out of the driveway.
And Mr. I am In a Hurry, stepped on one and went down in a heap.
I believe that I am married to the man with the worst ankles on the face of the earth.
He sat a long while.
"You okay?" I asked.
He grunted.
Well I took that to mean 'Not really.'
I waited, he sighed and then finally got up. In our 20 years of marriage, I think he has been on crutches for a twisted, broken, or sprained ankle at least once every two years.
He gimped over to the truck and limped back with dog food. I offered to help but he got Grumpy. When he is Grumpy Gus, I simply let him be.
I went back to my buckets and my dirt.
I found a cool old crate in the little red shed and cleaned it up. While it dried I took out some scraps of lumber and sanded them.
I thought I'd try something I'd looked up on a DIY site. I'd put some numbers on the kids' blocks for Elena and Sterling.
They didn't turn out too badly. I choose the blocks at random, but after setting them on the spool table together I thought they might fit together like a puzzle.
I still have to put a finish on them, but that was fun. I guess I have to make numbers including 0 and 4 through 9 now.
Meanwhile ol' Grumpy supervised the workers putting up drywall and the plumbers who finished installing the shower/tub.
Of course his ankle was getting more sore by the minute. I suggested he take a load off and ice it.
NOPE.
I shook my head. Men.
When the guys left at 4:30, ol' Grumpy had me wrap his ankle and he went to lay down.
By the time he got up, he was really gimping and limping.
He sat on the porch where I showed him my blocks and the crate. Then he spoke up.
He needed to get back to the Dexter's summer pasture and put those lines back up right now.
Since he was so bullheaded about his ankle and my abilities... I shrugged and said, "Okay, go ahead."
I didn't offer to move off the porch. He sat there.
By golly he wasn't going to pull the wool over my eyes. And since he was Mr. Stubborn, I wasn't going to offer him help. When the other men were around, he was Tough Guy.
Now? Not so much it seemed.
I waited. I arranged some flowers inside the old crate and snapped a shot of them.
I knew he needed help. But he was going to be too stubborn to ask for it.
He looked out at the winter pasture and sighed. "I really need to get out there, maybe I'll take the 4 wheeler."
"Good idea," I replied.
After another long pause in conversation I gave up.
"Why don't you take me back there and I can help you, then it will be done in a jiffy."
I sort of hated myself for giving him an out.
Mr. Stubborn looked pleased and got up out of his chair, he limped across the new porch and I reluctantly followed.
Wasn't that mean of me?
Before we went to bed he thanked me for my help. I shrugged.
Isn't it an interesting way we interact with our spouses sometimes?
I'm sure ol' Grumpy Gus knew that if he waited me out long enough that I'd help. I'm sure he really knows that I am very capable of the work but likes things done his way.
And so it goes.
I'm going to keep an eye out for those ankle busting rocks.
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