The Rural Voice, 2000-03, Page 8TKA
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4 THE RURAL VOICE
Gisele Ireland
Super Wrench gets the point
For several years now, Super
Wrench and I have wrangled about
what we'd do with the extra space
upstairs after the
parental nest.
He wants a
room where he
can hang the
treasures he
picks up at
auction sales on
the wall. Real
nifty things
such as rusty
saws used by
pioneers and the
cutting teeth out
of old mowers.
He envisions
them as a
border all the
last fledgling left the
A different tack
wins argument
way around the
room. Fortunately these nostalgic
decorating hallucinations were
infrequent on Super Wrench's part,
which cheered me immensely. I just
couldn't justify sacrificing any corner
of the house to warehouse rusting
metal parts. I have plans of my own.
I want to build a room with lots of
light and space in which to set up a
queen sized quilt and still have room
to do the ironing or sewing around it.
As long as the business was
devouring all our resources, neither
one of us got past the "I want" stage.
Until this winter.
Super Wrench capitulated, not
gracefully mind you, one morning
last week. "You win", he grimaced
painfully, "I'll contact a carpenter
today." He couldn't look me in the
eye during this announcement to
gauge my reaction as he was busy
prying a quilt tack out of the bottom
of his foot. No matter how careful I
try to be, one always gets away on
me and Super Wrench's feet always
seem to painfully locate it.
Another factor contributing to my
victory could be the ungainly crawl
he has to make under the quilt to get
to the stairs due to the lack of room.
This area is always a haven for
straight pins. Super Wrench isn't big
on acupuncture to the kneecaps.
My orders were to clean out the
rooms in preparation for the
carpenter. I truly meant to
methodically go through all the
contents and neatly box and label
them alfid get rid of the cruddy stuff
before the construction started. It
never happened. As a result, the
carpenter called to say he had the
studs to partition off the wall and
he'd be there in two hours. Super
Wrench resignedly offered to help
when he noticed the guilty horror on
my face. He even hauled one of the
guys out of the shop to help with the
donkey work. We did it in 45
minutes.
The exercise proved conclusively
the accusations Super Wrench had
flung at me for years. I am an
indiscriminate hoarder of
predominantly useless junk.
There was no time for lengthy
explanations, although I tried to
justify some of the items moved. The
several bags of worn out jeans were
being saved to make something
useful. Martha Stewart had
instructions of how to make a tent out
of them as soon as they're cut up and
sewn together. I was waiting for the
right time.
The odds and ends of dishes
and pots were leftovers from the
kids' college days and I was
keeping them in case any of them
decided to go back to school. The
broken picture frames, lamps with no
shades and several miles of extension
cords were a mystery to me too. I did
find the Easter bunny grass I
misplaced last year and as well as
Super Wrench's favourite western
shirt.
The next item on the agenda is a
crowbar party to gut the rooms.
Anyone have any statistics on how
far old plaster dust travels? I'll make
a note of it as I'm sure there'll be Tots
of memorable moments as Red Green
Renovates.0
Gisele Ireland, from Bruce County, is
an author of several humorous books
on farm life.