I love my father. I really do. He’s kind and caring and always tells me he’s proud of me. But DEAR GOD that man needs medication. He is so OCD about details I thought we would never get our porch finished. Dear Dad firmly believes there is a “right” way to do everything from painting a wall to putting on a belt. In his mind, “right” is the same as “morally correct and therefor not to be challenged even if it means painting every damn piece of wood for this porch THREE TIMES and buying four different kinds of molding”. Perfectionism, thy name is Biff.* But thanks to his planning and knowledge – and his awesome air-powered framing nailer – we have a new front porch. E did an amazing job of both tolerating my father and working his butt off to get everything done even though the weather was crap and he had his actual job to do during the day. And he was out of beer. I totally thought about teaching Baby Evan to play the world’s tiniest violin for him.
But now the project is DONE (Ok beside a little tiny bit of touch-up painting I am totally planning to do as soon as I get a free afternoon when the baby is sleeping and I’m not exhausted. Soooooo…….2024, give or take a few months) and we have a fantastic new porch on which to enjoy lovely New England evenings. There are two rugs for baby play time on the floor, balustrades to keep tiny children and dogs from falling through the screen, throw pillows for lounging on, a cafe table for morning coffee, patio furniture for games and wine and a swing to rock Baby Evan to sleep at night. Check it out from old to new and be TOTALLY JEALOUS.
*Ok, William, but even his business cards say Biff.