I don’t think Hubs and I would make it on The Amazing Race.
Which is sad, because out of all the reality TV dreck, I kinda like The Amazing Race. I love the premise that you go around the world, doing challenges that are… sorta… related to the area’s cultures/traditions/what seems to freak the mundanes. You have to get by on your wits and whatever resources you may have, whether given or brought to the game by you and your partner. And while I’m sure there’s a fair amount of editing to make people seem more likable/douchecanoe-y, it doesn’t feel as piled on as some others. We have talked about how it would be fun to try to be on. How this might be a helluva way to see the world.
But today. Oy, today. One of the things that really work with us is when there’s an emergancy, we both get into a zen-like calm, and work together to solve whatever crisis is going on. Time to fall apart and freak can be later, we deal. But if it’s not a life and death thing?
Our house is an older home, built in the postwar holy-crap-we-got-to-house-all-the-soldiers-and-their-families 40s. The home was renovated slightly– the original homeowner thought himself quite the handyman, and before my mom and dad bought the house it was worked on. We’ve done some remodeling (one awesome experience and one that should have been featured on Holmes on Homes). The kitchen wasn’t really touched aside from having to replacing bits and bobs. The majority of it is still from the 40s, and we are constantly running into problems in a world where not many things are made for a house that is either too old for the modern crap, or too new for the restoration/vintage crap. We constantly are having to make do. One of the things we did was use some shelves that my dad had put up lo these many years ago as a sort of dry pantry/storage area for my baking ingredients.
A couple of days ago, Mom and I were talking, and she discovers that the shelves were in a slow state of collapse. We were able to rescue the goods (yay team us!) but the braces were toast; as a stopgap measure until we can really afford to get a remodel (or… somehow have one gifted to us!) we deicided to get the heavy-duty shelves to put up on the wall. HOW HARD CAN IT BE, REALLY???
Through this Project That Won’t Die, we discovered a few things, like…We knew the walls aren’t really drywall but a sort of plaster-esque substance. What we didn’t know was how brittle it was getting. Oh, and our fancy-dancy stud finder? Couldn’t find a damn beam even if it was right on top of the blasted thing; my drill, on the other hand, was able to find the stud JUST FINE… while we were using the drill bit sized for the anchor, which was too large for the screw that came with the plastic bits of crap that we needed to use as anchors. Our hammers, an essential tool so we could pound the anchors into the wall, apparently have all grown legs and walked off to parts unknown, leaving a small worthless PoS hammer that couldn’t pound sand, and a mallet that ended up bouncing from the impact and nearly banging Hubs in the head several times.
We started this with Preschool Rockstar asleep and my mom rocking Toddler Terrorist, praying that we could get this done. Nope, Rockstar woke up and was in Weepy Clingy mode. I tried to distract her with a show but then she kept screaming questions about what was going on, which was distracting, which also resulted in Hubs putting his thumb through the brittle plaster. He was snapping at me, I was snapping right back, and Rockstar was asking more questions about Disneyland Resorts which we couldn’t answer because we were a little busy not trying to kill each other. I got her in her room with crayons and a princess coloring book, so that was better (even though she would come out every other minute wanting me to color Sleeping Beauty pink, wanting me to rip the page out of the book, wantingwantingwanting).
The wall braces are on, and they mostly cover the holes (yes, plural) that were put in while trying to get the damndable anchors in. We start with the shelves; My idea was that, since you have to screw the shelf onto the shelf supports, we would hook the supports on the braces, screw the shelf on, and then move it where we need it to go. That’s when we found out… one of the braces was installed 1/16″ lower then the other two. Technically they were level… but spaced in such a way that the shelf, once screwed on, would pretty much be locked in place. Kinda the opposite of the problem we had with the previous set. More RAWRing ensued, with bonus stomping around by us!
Hubs: “well, I hope you like where that shelf is… BECAUSE I CAN’T MOVE IT.”
Me: “let me see what’s going on.”
Hubs: “IT’S NOT MOVING. You are WELCOME TO TRY, but it’s locked in place.”
Me: (pissed off after about five minutes of futzing, I removed the shelf): “IT’S OFF!”
Hubs stomped back in, still frustrated, and tried to put the shelf up again. He ended up having to take the screws out, reposition the supports, and put the screws in.
After the second shelf, we’ve ruined the screw bit on my drill, Hubs’ drill battery isn’t charging, and the wee auto-screwdriver he was resorting to use fell behind the cabinets under where the shelves are put up. We were tired, both drenched in sweat, and my husband kept asking where the hell Bear Sheva was. That’s when I realized that within three episodes of The Amazing Race, we would end up like one of those teams that would be screaming at each other, possibly me saying screw it, quit the contest and find a decent hotel with a jacuzzi and room service that brings the booze in cases instead of by the glass.
I still need to put the last two shelves on. And maybe figure out a way to get that kitchen remodel sooner then planned… Happy Labor Day!