Adding to Life Skills

I think that every month I am married to Ryan, I learn another skill. Generally the learning process also includes stains of some sort on my body and clothes, or a new bruise, as I am a clumsy person and tend to get paint or stain or bruised 0n anything within arm’s reach.

This month, we went to stay at a friend’s beach house for the long weekend.  As part of the deal, we prepped the outside of the house for painting. We also started in on plastering the bedroom walls, and re-grouting the tub.  The guy at the hardware store when I bought the grout knife said “That’s hard work for a little thing like you”.  Which was sweet, and funny since at 5 feet 10 inches, I don’t get called ‘a little thing’ very often. He was correct.  Never ever ever in my life will I put 1 inch square tiles anywhere in my house.  I am too cheap (read Norwegian) to pay for something I could do myself.  And scraping out sloppily applied old grout with a grout knife is not a pleasant task.   The fine, heavy dust settles everywhere, including your lungs if you don’t wear a mask. You’ll be cleaning it out of the corners of a bathroom for weeks. Before I wrapped my head in a rag, my hair was coated finely in white powder.  I told Ryan that was how I would look in 20 years, he better get used to it.

But back to the prettier project…power washing, scraping, caulking and oil priming the outside of the little house was actually a pleasant task. It was hard work, but it was a beautiful location, it was sunny, and the sea blew cool salt-scented breeze across the lawn all day long.

992979_10151670469818236_1289210781_nThe point of the exercise was to preserve the siding enough to last another 5 years. All it needs now is a coat of crisp white paint.

We were a block from a great little coffee shop for the cool mornings. In the evenings we walked the half mile down the road that cut through a golf course to get dinner.  We were coerced into playing music bingo in a pub, during which I tried to eat a rubber ice cube thinking it was a berry.  But really, if you’re going to put little round pink rubber pieces in the bottom of a martini, you might warn a girl it’s not food.

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