I Heart Indies

Saturday, October 27, 2012

Honey Do

In case you're looking for something to do this weekend, here's a quick fun guide.

The ceiling fan has started rattling recently, so bad you can't use it at night.  Take a look at it and see if you can't fix it.  Take off the blades and try spinning the rotor by hand.  No noise.  Notice how wobbly it is in its mounting.  See if you can tighten it.  You can't.  Worry that one night it will crash down on you and your wife as you sleep.  Replace the blades.  Spin it by hand.  No noise.  Now turn it on.  At first it is silent, then it starts to rattle again.  The hell with it.

The chickens have been pooping all week long in their coop because you can't let them out any more after a hawk attacked one of them.  It is amazing how much poop two chickens make in just one week.  Especially after you give them watermelon rind.  Wearing work gloves, clear out the poop and throw it in the garden.  This will be the best part of the weekend.

The red tips out front need trimming.  Trim off the tall branches that stick out like antennae.  Your wife will say you need to trim it back more.  Trim it more.  Still not enough, she says, it will get spindly if you don't trim it enough.  Trim it more.  Still not enough, here let me show you.  Tell her you can do it.  Give her the clippers when she insists.  Go inside and get a beer.
One of the shelves in the kitchen broke last week owing to its being supported by ludicrous plastic brackets supplied by the manufacturer.  These periodically give way, sending glassware and whatnot shattering into the shelf below.  Who the hell would equip kitchen cabinets with plastic brackets?
You thought you had replaced all the plastic brackets with metal ones, but last week you discovered one you missed.  Pry the broken plastic stems out of the holes with needle-nose pliers.
Cuss.  Your wife will ask if you need any help.  Tell her you got it.  She says she thinks there's some metal brackets in the basement.  Tell her, no, you used the last of the brackets on the last shelf that broke in the middle of the night, waking you from a sound sleep and sending glassware and whatnot crashing into the shelf below.  Go to the hardware store and spend forty-five minutes searching for the right size brackets which you could swear used to be in the cabinet aisle but are not any more.  Corner an associate who grudgingly tells you they are in the hardware section.  Think about the fact that having a "hardware section" in a hardware store makes as little sense as having a "grocery section" in a grocery store.  Pick up a plastic bag of brackets only to discover you have the only item in the entire store that lacks a bar code.  Stand at the register for twenty minutes as an associate goes to track down the price of the brackets, first mistakenly going to the cabinet section.  Get home with the brackets.  They are the wrong size.  In the basement discover the right size brackets which were there all along just like your wife told you.  Do not tell your wife this.  Install shelf and put unbroken glassware and whatnot back on it.  It is slightly off level, and everything slides slowly to one side.  Do not mention this to your wife either.

God, but won't it be nice to go to work on Monday?

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