Thursday, July 5, 2007

Habitat for Insanity

This long weekend my partner and I were challenged by trying to replace a huge portion of my MOMP's (Mother of My Partner) cottage's porch Up North in Oscoda, Michigan. It was quite comical, kind of a "swallowed the spider to catch the fly" event.

We tore up one section of the porch, only to find the other section needed doing, as well.
We bought only a small amount of lumber, hoping to reuse the old planks, since the lumber was "too expensive". Good grief. $100 worth of lumber would have saved us six hours!
We ran out of 8d, 3in deck nails (they are spiral on the end, for some reason), and could find no supplier in town. For those interested, the "d" is the diameter in millimeters, the "in" is length in inches.
We needed new metal fixtures for the structure (underneath, the beams are attached using metal devices), that seem to not be purchasable.
We were berated twice for being late for dinner(trying to conserve sunlight).

MOMP was in rare form. She tried to hand me a dog poo because my doggie produced it, even through she was three feet from the trash. She flipped PJ in the forehead like he was Moe and she was Curly. She hollered about us being late for dinner, even though we said we wouldn't be ready until late (working on a project for her). She surveilled parts of the construction process, making me so nervous I hit myself in the breast with a crowbar-- removing an attractive chunk of missing flesh. She made herself sick because we got fresh mustard potato salad from the case instead of getting the same brand and type, prepackaged. Interesting how lactose intolerance goes away for ice cream and pizza, but comes back when you don't want to eat anywhere but Burger King. Okay, one more-- she was piqued that I didn't try her method of eating sweet corn, which entails slashing each row of kernels down the center, so as to extract only the sweet insides of each and leave the skin of each kernel.

Anyhow, enough ranting. We are worried that she is starting to deterioriate into her old catty self, the mom he knew as a child. It is strange that someone so interesting could also be so wenchy, for no reason. My problem is how she makes him feel. In the long run, I guess I don't really care about her approval, but I really don't want her torturing PJ. He is a wonderful, helpful person who deserves her thanks, not her venom.

The best part about the trip was the view (we never made it down to the beach) and the sweet corn. Oh, and the return home. (Maintaining my amusement! :-)

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