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Golden Beets and More Adulting
Oct. 8th, 2024 12:37 pmYesterday was, as previously reported, a day full of adulting. Shawn was on the phone or email all day with nearly everyone rearranging and rescheduling,, etc.
But, we got it all done.
In the middle of all this, our handyman called to remind us that he had this week on his calendar to finally replace the fence on the south side of our house. This was a fence that we got... secondhand, from Shawn's brother Greg. Greg, I should note, has literally sold us cars that turned out to be total lemons in the past, so why we accepted a USED fence from him, I'm not entirely certain. I do remember that we had a problem delineating our property when we first moved in, because the people who owned our house also owned the house next door (to the south). I suspect we were in a hurry, hoping to discourage all the wandering over from the tenants of that 5-plex into our gardens and garage. This, I remember as my first "get off my lawn" moments as a homeowner. Not my finest. At any rate, the second the used fence was installed it began rot. So this thing has been moldering on its posts for literal decades. Replacing it is long overdue. Thus, despite the fact that we were exhausted from all the schedule futzing, we agreed that this Friday was a fine time to finally tackle the fence.
Shawn, naturally, tapped out (as we call surrendering decision making to the other partner) on this. This is perfectly reasonable for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I am the one at home who will be doing all the coordinating with deliveries of supplies, arrivals of handypersons, and the like. But our guy, Rob, really is just a handyman. He is not super interested in being a contractor who does all the getting of supplies and organizing deliveries or even purchasing the screws, if he thinks you've got what he needs or are willing to do it for him (and save yourself his labor costs.)
We are definitely for that last bit. This fence is irritating enough already, and so the idea of it costing more than is absolutely necessary is beyond the Pale.
This morning, I took myself over to Menards and ordered and paid for the fence panels, posts, deck screws and even the "bagster" for all the detritus. We obviously need to get the heavy panels delivered (I do not have a truck--I know, my lesbian cred is low). So, after buying what I needed, I headed over to the delivery department.
I will say that I felt like I was watching a sitcom at the delivery desk at the Midway Menards.
It was some kind of combination of "The Office" and "Brooklyn 99." There was the overly friendly guy who really wanted to comment on the t-shirt I was wearing who CLEARLY thought that his coworkers were his Very Best Friends, though it was clear to me the jury was still out on that one as far as they were concerned. Overly Friendly Guy was the kind of guy who called his colleagues, "the boss" affectionately, but the co-worker merely rolled his eyes and said to me (as though speaking to the camera in "The Office,") "I am what they call a peon. I do all the work of the boss, but shoulder twice the blame." This being real life, I was able to respond to Peon, "Yeah, I hear you. That was always my role at all the jobs I've worked too." This earned me Peon's one and only genuine smile of the entire 25 minutes.
The comedy was that Overly Friendly Guy could not do anything without help from Peon and Hanger-On--whose name tag read "Dom," which... I understood to be short for "Dominic" but one's mind being what it is, made the whole thing funnier to me. I think, too, I might not have gone straight to the other kind of dom, had not Hanger-On/Dom's ears instantly perked up when I noted that I had a wife. He then IMMEDIATELY found a way to contrive to drop "his partner" into the conversation. We shared looks and smirks going forward.
I can't even accurately describe the whole thing because it was so surreally like wandering into a sit-com set. I am reasonably assured, however, that we eventually got my fence panels set for delivery.
I came home and ate the leftover half of a Jimmy John's sub (I had treated Shawn to lunch out yesterday since we were both so frazzled and, at that point, she still had dozens of more calls to make.) Along with the sub, I broke into the yellow beets and made a yellow beet and apple salad from the Saint Paul Farmers Market Cookbook.
Given all the help I received ID'd this mystery plant, I thought you all might be pleased with the report that the golden beets are, indeed, golden beets and very delicious!
But, we got it all done.
In the middle of all this, our handyman called to remind us that he had this week on his calendar to finally replace the fence on the south side of our house. This was a fence that we got... secondhand, from Shawn's brother Greg. Greg, I should note, has literally sold us cars that turned out to be total lemons in the past, so why we accepted a USED fence from him, I'm not entirely certain. I do remember that we had a problem delineating our property when we first moved in, because the people who owned our house also owned the house next door (to the south). I suspect we were in a hurry, hoping to discourage all the wandering over from the tenants of that 5-plex into our gardens and garage. This, I remember as my first "get off my lawn" moments as a homeowner. Not my finest. At any rate, the second the used fence was installed it began rot. So this thing has been moldering on its posts for literal decades. Replacing it is long overdue. Thus, despite the fact that we were exhausted from all the schedule futzing, we agreed that this Friday was a fine time to finally tackle the fence.
Shawn, naturally, tapped out (as we call surrendering decision making to the other partner) on this. This is perfectly reasonable for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that I am the one at home who will be doing all the coordinating with deliveries of supplies, arrivals of handypersons, and the like. But our guy, Rob, really is just a handyman. He is not super interested in being a contractor who does all the getting of supplies and organizing deliveries or even purchasing the screws, if he thinks you've got what he needs or are willing to do it for him (and save yourself his labor costs.)
We are definitely for that last bit. This fence is irritating enough already, and so the idea of it costing more than is absolutely necessary is beyond the Pale.
This morning, I took myself over to Menards and ordered and paid for the fence panels, posts, deck screws and even the "bagster" for all the detritus. We obviously need to get the heavy panels delivered (I do not have a truck--I know, my lesbian cred is low). So, after buying what I needed, I headed over to the delivery department.
I will say that I felt like I was watching a sitcom at the delivery desk at the Midway Menards.
It was some kind of combination of "The Office" and "Brooklyn 99." There was the overly friendly guy who really wanted to comment on the t-shirt I was wearing who CLEARLY thought that his coworkers were his Very Best Friends, though it was clear to me the jury was still out on that one as far as they were concerned. Overly Friendly Guy was the kind of guy who called his colleagues, "the boss" affectionately, but the co-worker merely rolled his eyes and said to me (as though speaking to the camera in "The Office,") "I am what they call a peon. I do all the work of the boss, but shoulder twice the blame." This being real life, I was able to respond to Peon, "Yeah, I hear you. That was always my role at all the jobs I've worked too." This earned me Peon's one and only genuine smile of the entire 25 minutes.
The comedy was that Overly Friendly Guy could not do anything without help from Peon and Hanger-On--whose name tag read "Dom," which... I understood to be short for "Dominic" but one's mind being what it is, made the whole thing funnier to me. I think, too, I might not have gone straight to the other kind of dom, had not Hanger-On/Dom's ears instantly perked up when I noted that I had a wife. He then IMMEDIATELY found a way to contrive to drop "his partner" into the conversation. We shared looks and smirks going forward.
I can't even accurately describe the whole thing because it was so surreally like wandering into a sit-com set. I am reasonably assured, however, that we eventually got my fence panels set for delivery.
I came home and ate the leftover half of a Jimmy John's sub (I had treated Shawn to lunch out yesterday since we were both so frazzled and, at that point, she still had dozens of more calls to make.) Along with the sub, I broke into the yellow beets and made a yellow beet and apple salad from the Saint Paul Farmers Market Cookbook.
Given all the help I received ID'd this mystery plant, I thought you all might be pleased with the report that the golden beets are, indeed, golden beets and very delicious!
