How It's Going: Gofers and Marital Bliss

The rainfall on Sunday and Monday totaled nearly three and a half inches and then finally, the sun came out late on Tuesday.  The thirsty ground soaked it right up, too, there are no puddles standing around.  Even though we needed the rain, it was a good feeling to see the sun again. 

On Tuesday and Wednesday evening we were able to get back to work on the Stone House.  We didn't do any actual construction though; mostly Carl was trying to get the spacing of the windows perfected and then decisions were made on the pillar placements, too.   

On Tuesday night, Carl cut the sills for the windows out of the limestone we'd had stockpiled here for years from either the landfill or people we knew who had removed the stone from their homes during remodeling projects.

 They aren't mortared in yet, but I think they'll work great.  Carl was on the fence about them; didn't think the style was the same and had some worries about the color, but I think even he's convinced they're OK now.

The stone pillars will be in the spaces between the sills.  I'm a big one for needing visual aids so I am constantly picking up the window frames and trying to picture the stone pillars between the windows.  After the sills were cut on Tuesday night, I thought we were on a roll, but the roll came to a crawl and then a stop after Carl decided he had more deciding to do yet again.  And yup, I plunked myself down at the white table again, too, and went back to making those annoying scritchy noises, taking off more of the flaking paint while I waited for orders.

Here on Wednesday after work, Carl is once again measuring and rechecking and measuring some more.  I go-fered his stuff again, "Oh, I forgot my pencil," and "Oh, I left my ruler in the garage," and "We'll need some string to use as a guide," and "Hand me the level," and well, you get the picture.  Carl is the Boss and I am a Gofer.  I don't mind gofering, I've been doing it my entire married life. Someone has to be the Boss and if that's what it takes to get the job done, I'm the Rodent...er...Gofer.   Though sometimes I wish he could lighten up a little, especially when it comes to my ability to select the 'correct' rock from the vast array of pallets available.  I just don't have 'the eye' for the right rock, at least according to my boss.  This has been an ongoing problem for me/us for years. 

"We need one that's about two and a half inches thick," he'll say and I'll dutifully march over to the nearby pallets and dig around awhile, and finally select a rock, carry it over and stick in on the wall to try it out for size.  This stone of ours is lumpy, so there's rarely a nice, straight rock fresh off the pallet that will miraculously fit.  Almost every stone in the building had to be dressed to size.  The idea is to pick a rock that doesn't need too much work to fit the allotted space, in other words, don't try to make a ten pound sausage fit in a five pound skin.  And for some reason, Carl and I clash endlessly over my inability to 'Find the Right Rock'.  

I think the rocks I pick out look fine, but he will invariably find fault with almost every one I bring.  I'm not sure if I'm just dense or he's just too picky or a combination of the two, but I can tell you this.......I am looking forward to this job being over!  Tempers flare, well, ok, Confession Time, mostly my temper flares because I get really really tired of hearing, "No, no, that rock's not right.  Can't you see how it's 

A. Too Small

B. Too Big

C. Too Lumpy

D. Not Lumpy Enough??

"Now go back and see if you can find one that is two and a half inches thick, ok?"  (I hate the patronizing, he's talking to a two-year-old tone.....grrrrrrrrr.) 

And I'll march back to the pallets and poke around some more and find another one (and yes, I have a ruler with me so I can measure correctly) and then like as not, the same scenario will play out again, can't I see the rock is 1/4" too A, B, C or D above yet again?? 

Things that make steam come out of this Gofer's ears.

 

And a Menopausal Gofer at that.  

A Menopausal Gofer Armed With a Rock Hammer.  

But, no, there will be no Assault and Hammery going on, I'm an Adult, I can Do This.  Deep cleansing breaths everyone, IN and OUT.......so I put on my Big Girl Gofer pants and head back to the piles to look for the *%#)@ Perfect Rock yet again.  

And yet again, Fail.  

Two more times.

The Boss sees what is now my fifth rock and is let down again.  "Now, can't you see what's wrong with this rock?"

No, all I can see is Red.  

And I yell.  

Loud.  

And then Louder.  That's right, you heard it here.  I'm not a Saint.  I  have a temper.

Carl doesn't yell.  Goodness, no.  He's so calm and matter-of-fact.  "I just don't understand what you don't understand about me needing the Right Rock.  You can't see how what you've brought me just doesn't work?"  And then he proceeds to put his level on the wall and demonstrate the error of my ways and how Vitally Important it is that this Random Rubble Structure have Impeccably Even Courses of Stone, because if it doesn't, well, then, People Will Snicker. 

Snicker!?  Good Heavens, that stopped me in my tracks.  Why, we Cannot Have People Snickering at the Stone Thingie!  What was I thinking??  What would happen if we had a Visitor come with a laser transit and measure the courses and find out we were One Eighth of an Inch Off?  Can you imagine the Snickerage?  Why, their guffaws might reverberate in the Stone Thingie and cause the mortar to crumble and then what would we have?  

I know I'm in danger of being demoted to Head Goofer instead of Gofer, but at this point, I really don't care.

I took a walk around the yard until I calmed down enough and then came back with a Proposal.  I will bring him as many stones I think might fit the hole in question and he can pick the Right One.  Then, I'll gladly cart the Offensive, Stupid, Oversized/Undersized Stones back to the pallets.  No questions asked, no yelling, nothing but Calm, Composed, Rock Hauling.  I figure if I can't be trusted to find the Right Rock, well, then I'll bring the selection to the Boss and let him take his pick. 

But, nope, that's not gonna cut it, either.  "Why can't you just bring the Right Rock in the first place?  You shouldn't have to haul a whole bunch of rocks back and forth."

We interrupt this Blog Post with some Breaking News:

Outagamie County, WI: 
A woman was found wandering on Highway 54  in a state of delirium at 3:00 AM Thursday morning.  A passing motorist swerved after nearly striking her in the roadway.  When officials arrived, the subject was standing in the ditch muttering to herself, 'The Right Rock, I can't find the Right Rock......you don't understand, the Right Rock is there, I just can't find it.  Can you help me find the Right Rock?"  

When asked her name, the woman would only respond with one word, 'Gopher'.  She appeared to be suffering a psychotic break and was transported to a nearby Mental Health Facility. 

Citizens with any knowledge of this Jane Doe's identity are asked to call the Sheriff's office Tip Line.  All calls will be kept confidential.  

With any luck, I'll be out for Fertilizer Friday.