Weekend’s more work than work
I need a weekend to recover from my weekend.
Have you had one of those? Where you either played or worked so hard that you just want to go into sloth mode to recoup and get ready for the coming week?
I actually had a nice balance of work and play this weekend, because I’m nothing if not balanced. I partook in the valley’s newest food event, Feast! Vail with friends. Some small-plate tasting, some wine tasting. It was quite delightful.
And I was there for opening day of Willow Creek Golf Course with The Teenager and my most tolerant friend. Tolerance and patience are necessary when playing golf with me. And good hunting skills for small white objects is helpful. The par 3 in Eagle-Vail is just right for this Goldilocks player. Not too hard, not too soft.
On this particular weekend, it was the work that nearly did me in. Since spring finally decided to show itself, I decided to take on all of the spring home projects in one weekend. On the docket: clean out garage; start sprinkler system; fertilize lawn; pull and/or spray weeds; wash windows; clean screens; paint a room downstairs; clean grill; hose off deck and set up outdoor furniture.
A little ambitious, I admit, but totally doable.
I have a fantasy. I hope this isn’t an inappropriate place to share it. It involves a gardener, a handyman and a housekeeper, and me sitting on a chaise lounge on my deck in the shade of an umbrella with a glass of wine and a magazine. And yes, the housekeeper is male. It’s my fantasy, people. Don’t judge. The men go about working to spring clean and prep my home for the warm weather while I supervise from my perch, occasionally stretching my legs to refill my glass and check on their progress. Is that really too much to ask?
In reality, it was The Teenager and I who took it all on. And it wasn’t the backbreaking work that exhausted me as much as the repeated trips to Home Depot throughout the weekend.
I’m an organized person. I make lists. I think through the details to make sure I have the things I need before diving into something. But apparently these skills don’t translate to home projects. Clearly the home care part of my brain has never fully developed. I blame too many Archie comic books and romance novels in the summers of my youth.
We made our first outing to Home Depot on Saturday afternoon following golf. I had a short list of items that I thought was everything we needed: weed and feed for the lawn; weed spray for the noxious weeds; a grill brush; 60-watt light bulbs. We walked out with a few extras, as well: fresh grill grates and a new American flag to celebrate the holiday.
I have to say it is nice to have a boy big enough to really help me with these jobs. It cuts down the workload and he knows how to do stuff! Stuff that I would ignore until I couldn’t any longer and had to figure out how to get it done. Like putting the bike rack on my car. And the things that I shouldn’t do because of my allergies to the outside world (aka, the things I really don’t want to do) like mowing the lawn and sweeping out the garage. Quite handy, that boy.
So when we got home, we set about working and almost immediately discovered we had not purchased enough fertilizer. Back in the car to Home Depot.
Then Sunday morning, the handle of the broom broke. I’m going to say it was due to overzealous sweeping. The Teenager does have the Boyne sweeping gene, which is basically a deep-seeded need to sweep vigorously and thoroughly. But it prompted another trip to Home Depot.
At this point, I think the staff is beginning to recognize me and it’s becoming slightly embarrassing.
I decided to illuminate the start up of the sprinkler system from our list, ostensibly because we seem to have had enough rain recently to properly irrigate the lawn. In reality, I knew that it only lead to another trip to Home Depot for sprinkler head parts and I couldn’t bear it.
At weekend’s end, we were completely exhausted but had accomplished nearly everything. I made a new list for Home Depot with all the things that kept us from finishing the last few jobs. I may petition the store for my own parking spot once I recover.
Linda Stamper Boyne, of Edwards, can be contacted through firstname.lastname@example.org.