How Not To

A how to guide on painting a gunite in ground pool.

DON’T.

For the sake of your sanity and that of your spouse, please hire someone to complete the project. Pay an expert – anything. Remortgage the house, cash in your retirement; sell all your belongings at a garage sale. I speak with the voice of experience.
The day begins. Search for the rental place, get lost several times finally give in and call them and ask for specific directions. I know it is not a manly trait to ask for directions but I won’t tell a soul. This is when you truly realize that size does matter. Small truck, 10 bags of sand, lots of huge hoses, the thingy that holds all the sand, the lovely sandblasting outfit. And then the compressor itself is almost as big as the truck. Will our little truck really pull this behemoth?
The ride home is scary all ten bags of sand are sitting on the back seat slowly leaking out sand. I’m hoping we don’t have to stop fast. We arrive home safe but anxious. Drag out the equipment and the 10 bags of sand. Perhaps I could use the leaf blower on the cloth seats.
I won’t mention that part about hubby breaking a part. It did require a trip back to the rental place. I stayed home and drank coffee. An hour later the master returns. I help him suit up. I take pictures of the alien astronaut crawling around the bottom of the empty pool. He pushes the button. Nuttin. No sound, no movement no nuttin. The darn thing doesn’t work.
Mr. Fixit himself is on the phone with the rental people for hours. It’s a Saturday they close at 1pm. They promise to contact the mechanic that is on call but he may not be reached till tomorrow. Okay, this is a daily rental and day one is slowly slipping past.
The sky is darkening, looks like rain in the forecast. Why does this not surprise me? Perhaps tomorrow the mechanic will show up.

Black Friday

Black Friday

I rolled out of bed the red numbers on the clock said 6:30 am. So the really, really good (LOL) sales started at 4 am. I ground beans for the coffee and started the Krups machine. I walked the dogs, gulped down two cups of fresh brewed coffee, fed all the animals, ate breakfast and took a shower. I sat outside and drank coffee number three. I needed the caffeine and used low fat creamer, so I feel I’m safe. I tossed in a load of whites, piled the darks next to the dryer and swept the kitchen floor. I gave the dog her pill, disguised in a slice of ham and put in her eye medicine. Right eye – antibiotic, left eye – artificial tears. I rechecked the bottles to make sure I did the correct eyes. I removed some leftover turkey and made turkey salad for dinner. I looked at the clock on the kitchen stove and it blinked 11:00 am. Now I’m really, really late for all those spectacular sales.
I drove over to my friends and we sat and talked and devoured turkey sandwiches. I watched the noon news and saw throngs of people standing in line waiting for the stores to open. Then the camera switched to the customers entering the stores. I witnessed people pushing, running and yelling with the look of terror on their faces. It reminded me of the crusaders going off to war. And here I sit missing all this action. The time now is 2:00 pm. My friend and I head off to a little store nearby. The parking lot was quite empty and there was no yelling and pushing. We scouted the clearance rack and looked for bargains. I spent a total of $15.00 and my friend spent a little more. Our spending frenzy satisfied we drove home with happy faces.
We missed the crowds, the confusion, and the traffic jam and perhaps a few bargains but we had a great time. I walked the dogs, fed all the animals, removed the clothes from the dryer ate a turkey salad sandwich and watched the 6 pm news. They started with the major traffic jam on I-75 and then the mass confusion for a parking spot at the mall. Am I sorry I missed all the great bargains? Actually I believe I got the best bargain.

Woebegone

It hasn’t rained here in over a month. We have put off the enormous task for over a year. On Wednesday we decide to tackle the issue. We rent a sump pump, drag out the pressure washer and go to work. The mission to drain the 32 foot pool begins. It becomes an all day process. At last it is finished and pressure washed. A clean slate ready to begin the transformation we had put off for way too long. We drop into bed drained from all energy. Muscles revolting from lack of use remind us of their displeasure. Morning breaks through dark and cold. Giant pellets of rain splatter on the dry pool surface. Rain continues for most of the day. I stand by and watch the empty clean pool fill once again with water. The sump pump returned our options are minimal. With buckets, cups and paper towels our work begins. Once again the pool is clean and dry. Friday comes swiftly as many are heading out for bargains and we stand at the edge of the pool. The morning sky dark like Black Friday itself lets us know Mother Nature prevails. Rain came slowly in miniscule drops. Woe is me.

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving. I think. I guess. Perhaps. Maybe – maybe not. I don’t know. I’m so confused. I just read that the first Thanksgiving is just a myth. It really happened in Florida. There was no turkey, no pumpkin pie – just beans. Should I toss out the turkey and open a can of pork-n-beans? Next thing they will be telling me the earth is flat. I suspected this all along! If I’m not careful where I walk I could fall right off the edge. Would I end up in hell? Or am I already there?
I’ve also read that if your children watched Sesame Street years ago they may have been psychologically damaged. Remember Oscar the grouch and Big Bird with his imaginary friend. What have I done to my children? And now all the children are obese due to that jolly old man in the red suit that comes around in December. England has banned fat Santa’s. They need to trim down they are setting a bad example for our children. Don’t mention that he breaks into your home in the middle of the night and eats your chocolate chips cookies and drinks all the egg nog. (thank you) Well, that means less sugar for the kiddies to get fat on.
My thoughts on child obesity are – here goes!
Our children are obese because their parents sit in front of the computer 24/7 and blog leaving the poor young-uns to fend for themselves.
Since I still believe in the tooth fairy, the lottery fairy and happy ever after (I saw Enchanted yesterday at the theatre) I am going to celebrate Thanksgiving with turkey and all the trimmings – no beans. I hope my children will forgive me for making them watch Sesame Street and letting a fat old man in a red suit be a role model. I will tell their father to stop wearing that suit. I will reduce my computer time by 10 minutes per day and buy lean cuisine frozen meals. I’m still unsure about the circumference of earth.
Happy Thanksgiving.

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