I tried to post yesterday. I apparently committed some kind of google indiscretion and it wouldn't post and it didn't save. I will try to capture my feelings of yesterday. Try, I say, because I have found that even the smallest lapse of time adds a different perspective.
Gutters are still the topic of my world. Yesterday, after reading my last entry, that did not refer to him as the love of my life, Drew goes out to the vast unknown to "look for" the gutters. These would be the gutters that I carefully salvaged and painted with Rustoleum paint. These would be the gutters that would go back on the building instead of a landfill. These would be the gutters that cost nothing, except my time and a little paint.
These would be the gutters that lie mangled beneath the ugly plastic barrels that a camper brought as a gift and was told to put them by the tree where said gutters were awaiting installation. That is the story I get. He looks downright smug. He wanted new gutters all along. I wanted to salvage as much as I could to maintain the rustic appearance of the building. I have heard every excuse known to man why this wouldn't work; and now he is almost gleeful. After I ask how the barrels ended up atop the gutters and listen to his lame explanation, I suggest that not ALL of the gutters can be beyond salvaging. I remind him that there are still some lengths that were not yet painted.......
Reluctantly he goes back out and does indeed find two sections that are intact--one painted, one not. I see him with his elaborate ladder set-up ( have to stop here to say that the eaves are so low he can reach up and touch them), I hear the drill as he secures them to the eave. "Come look at this." he says as he sticks his head in the door. Wish I had taken the camera with me. The two sections aren't properly connected. Instead of finding the connecting piece that I have absolutely no doubt is some where hidden in the rubble of my salvage attempt, he has screwed the pieces together in a fashion that will insure a rivulet of water cascading down almost dead center in the entrance. "This ain't gonna work" he says to me. I say nothing, just look at his handy work. Then he assures me that "Uncle Charlie's" is the only place that has the connecting pieces for this particular gutter--"if anybody has them, I don't think they make this anymore". Uncle Charlie's is at least 60 miles from here.
Off he goes on his mission to appease his wife......and I get the expected phone call about 45 minutes later telling me that those parts are way too expensive and that we would be better off buying new gutters. I give up. I tell him to do whatever he thinks is best and hang up. By now it is almost 4:00 and he has spent (wasted) the day in pursuit of gutters that I will no doubt hate.
I hate them. He pulls in with the new gutters hanging from the back of the truck. They are white. I don't want white. They are modern looking plastic ugly white gutters. Oh, but wait, he bought 4 cans of spray paint. I am still mute. I should feel bad, he is trying so hard. I don't. Off he goes to paint the white gutters with his cheap spray paint. All of the buildings and the fences on the grounds are barn red with black trim. The wind is blowing fiercely and rain is in the forecast.
Once again he is back with his elaborate ladder set-up. The freshly painted gutters are on the front porch. I keep mentioning the ladders because Drew has never been one to actually prepare for anything. He has two ladders out, big over kill ladders. I painted the eaves with a step stool and I am only 5'3"! I start to feel bad, because he is trying so hard and I go out to help him. He is taking down the ladders. He bought the wrong brackets. This will involve another trip to Lowe's and he can't return the now black brackets. To my credit, I didn't say a word; just went back inside to finish folding laundry and cooking dinner.
As I lay in bed last night, in the wee hours of the morning, when insomnia paid it's nightly visit; I pondered the state of the new gutters. I could hear the wind howling as a storm front passed through and I wondered how much of the cheap spray paint would remain on the ugly white gutters after being tossed by the wind on the concrete.
He has been up for a couple of hours now and not one word about yesterday's project has even been mentioned. He has made two trips to check on the heavy equipment for the renovation of the tent area. He brought me an iced coffee (bribe) on his return from the second trip. He mind has moved on to other things. I always joke and tell him he has ADD. No joke, he really does. Today he has to go to work at 3:00. I will be online trying to find instructions to tell me how to install those *^&##* gutters. As Paul Harvey would say....and now you know the rest of the story.