Brian and I find that we often have differing opinions on household issues. One of the more recent ones was when he mistakenly thought he should throw away the baby food jars I had been
hoarding saving to store small things like buttons, nails and screws, nuts and bolts in. He told me that was ridiculous. I called my father and said “Dad, what is the best storage container for things like nuts and bolts and he said “baby food jars, why?” and I looked smugly at Brian but he continued to throw them away and I continued to pick them out of the garbage (he didn’t even RECYCLE them) and that dance continued until I was no longer babysitting babies. Then it became the same song and dance with any glass jar. I finally won that battle when I found I HAD NO GLASS JARS and went out and purchased some. I think he thinks I am kidding when I tell him that I really do use them. When I mix epoxy I need to do so in glass because it gets hot due to the chemical reaction and will melt the plastic cup it is in. I have to explain EVERYTHING apparently. I try to tell him he doesn’t really want to know my reasons, but then he continues to throw things away so then I explain the whole chemical reaction and fusion and fission (which I was totally making up on the fly because seriously, who cares?) and his eyes glazed over and now he saves the glass jars for me. Same with wine bottles. I just have to have them out of his sight within like a day. To the patio they go to get epoxied and then to the glass saw.
Also, he seems to think that the toaster oven is ONLY for food. Yeah, food, clay and plastic beads. And that the oven is for baking. Yeah, baking clay. Also for hiding things. That the stove is for cooking – Soap. That the candy themometer meant I was going to make candy. Yeah right. I buy candy. I make soap. Same with the hand held blender. He really needs to expand his mind. Open up to possibilities. For instance, this conversation happened not too long ago.
Brian:”Why is the toaster oven on the patio?”
Shannon “Oh, I was experimenting with something.”
Brian “On the patio?”
Shannon”Yes, and it’s a good thing because the experiment failed and it stunk.”
Brian “what the hell were you cooking ON THE PATIO that smelled?”
Shannon “shrinkie dinks with epoxy on them. Not a good idea apparently.”
Then he opened the patio door and could smell what I meant. He gave me a day to get the toaster oven back into the kitchen where it allegedly belongs. He should be thankful. I cleaned the crumbs out of the bottom and from under it when I moved it. So it was actually housework blended with artistic experimentation.
Our most recent disagreement which lead to me telling him I was never going to iron his clothes again involved the hanging light in the dining room. Dining room is actually not the word for what that room is anymore – it is the lair. It’s a shame because it is a beautiful room and I love the dining room set but…sacrifices needed to be made and my children INSISTED on sleeping on beds IN the house. I’m looking into a shed. For my work shop, not for the kids to sleep in. Or whichever actually. I’m open minded like that.
Well, allow me to back up a little first because this actually has like a linear progression.
Brian and I have been bashing heads for about 8 years on how, where and why I store my supplies. The more he says no the worse it gets because honestly, I am not a miracle worker and my magic wand isn’t in tip top shape anymore. He says the plastic bins are ugly. So then I tried baskets and chests. That wasn’t good either. I was hanging fabric in my closet, but frankly I don’t even have room for my clothes. it has gone on and on and there was no good option unless I had a dedicated space and he just wasn’t seeing my point. Or rather he was, but refused to accept that was the only option. He seems to confuse business and work with hobby and optional. Just because I enjoy my work, that doesn’t mean it is a hobby. “this is a HOUSE not an art studio.” he says. Yeah, dude, I know because the kids refuse to sleep in a tent and you refuse to let me have my fabric hanging up in the living room. Otherwise it WOULD be an art studio.
So one day he came home and asked me what that large machine on the counter was. It actually went more like :
“Shan, what the HELL is that?”
I told him it was an electric mixer. Which it was.
Ok, it was a drill press. I am fairly sure it could be used as an electric mixer too though. So I wasn’t being entirely dishonest. He saw through the ruse.
“C’mon Shan, this is a HOUSE. I just want a nice house. Shan, you cannot keep a drill press on the counter.”
so I moved it to the living room. He didn’t like it there either. That was the straw. The drill press. He finally gave up on the dining room. Now it is my lair. Mwhahaha.
I have a small heat press in there which I am pretty sure he is un- aware of actually. I was pressing a couple of his work shirts and then putting them on hangers and hanging them from the dining room light. That’s what my mother always did. He saw the shirt hanging there and he FREAKED THE EFF OUT. I explained patiently, since he had obviously either not had a hanging light in his dining room growing up or his mother didn’t iron every single article of his clothing every single night (including jeans) when he was growing up that this was normal and expected and where else was I going to hang his shirts that I had already ironed. He suggested the closet. Since he vetoed my idea to put a door between our walk in closet and the lair (which would have actually been a secret entrance to the lair and would have eliminated the need for me to walk through the rest of the house and hence, given me the ability move about undetected by the kids) I had to point out that it was stupid to walk back and forth every time a shirt was ironed. I then told him this was how it was done. He told me it was going to pull the light out of the ceiling. It told him he was full of bolonga and even if it did, who was going to have to fix it? Yup, me. Then I called my mother who asked him who he thought he was talking to when he told her it was crazy to hang clothes from a chandelier (that is a little bit of a stretch, it is a hanging light. Cripes. I don’t see any crystals buddy.) We agreed to disagree. The next day the shirt was gone and I told him he could iron his own from now on because he didn’t appreciate me or my creative problem solving skills. He said my skills are what caused problems. He just feels threatened by my problem solving genius.
Anyhow, I started hanging my glass chimes from the same light. I have found that I make the chimes, store them somewhere, forget I have them made and make them again when I get an order. So I put them on hoop earrings and hung them from the light. I have been slowly doing this for about two weeks now and he just noticed. The same disagreement ensured. I assured him I would take them down shortly and I did. Today. When I got my new glass chime hanger upper in the mail.Some fool had this on amazon as a clothes drying rack. Who would hang their clothes on a wind chime holder? I roll my eyes at these people and their crazy ideas. Socks and undies go in the dryer. Wind chimes do not. At least not yet, but that is actually an idea I am playing around with.
Brian asked what this was. I told him that it was my glass hanger upper. He asked what it really was. I told him there were glass chimes hanging from it and hence I think it’s purpose is obvious. He asked me to move it out of the kitchen. I will do that. But he is gonna be pissed when he sees it hanging from the light in the dining room.
I also needed to point out to him that I didn’t take the glass down from the lamp because he was right and that they shouldn’t be hanging there. After all, if it is a ‘ chandelier’ as he claims then colorful things dangling from it are not only acceptable but necessary. I took them down because the lamp is a little too high and I can’t reach them easily to unhook the hoops they are on to get them down. This will allow it to hang lower and is more easily accessible. I wonder how long it is going to take him to notice.
I plan to cause a diversion with my “I can make a glass tumbler with a plastic jar and the dryer” invention. My father agreed that it was a great idea. He also suggested I not do it when Brian is home and to make sure I have some clothes in the dryer when I add the jar with the glass and sand in it to the dryer or it will make a terrible noise. Thanks Pop!