Kicking Ass and Taking Names


Yeah, that’s not what we’re doing.

But goddamn, we are talking a really good game right now.

Randy and I have decided to finally take care of issues we have with this house we bought. Nearly 4 years ago.

First, we replaced the water heater.

After finding roof damage, we just got a new roof which was covered under our homeowner’s insurance.

Next week, our sagging driveway gets propped up.

We want to update our kitchen and repaint the dining room. Also, optimize the pantry space. And kitchen.


Our kitchen is dinky. Two people can work together in there. But not without some hurt feelings and general bickering. Seriously, how does he manage to step right in my way every fucking time?

Our changes won’t really make that better since I can’t make the room bigger. However, we can better utilize our space and make everything more accessible, which really, will eliminate at least 36% of our frustration.

36% was calculated by using the super scientific method of making up a percentage that has no meaning whatsoever. It also may be 37%.

Anyway, we’ve been having a lot of fun looking at shelving and mentally rearranging everything.

In my mind?

  • I have repainted the kitchen cabinets and the entire dining room.
  • We’ve shopped for dishes, curtains and oddly shaped light bulbs.
  • We’ve shopped for rugs, back splashes, and bar stools.

Then, I had to bring us back to reality.

All these jobs can’t start without a little prep work.

By a little, I mean, we have a lot of prep work to do.

For instance, we can’t organize the pantry until we actually clean out the pantry.

I squared my shoulders, adjusted my pajama pants, and started pulling stuff out of the pantry.

Okay, stay with me, I’m going to veer off a little.

Around Thanksgiving, I did something to my baby toe on my right foot. No idea what. But it hurt like a motherfucker. I finally went to the doctor in December about my sad, swollen, purple toe. They sent me for an X-ray. Turns out it was not broken. They said to call if it didn’t get better.

Well, it has not gotten better and I just got around to making another appointment last week. I see the doctor on Tuesday. I have one pair of boots that I can wear that don’t hurt my toe. I’m glad it’s cold out.

So anyway, I started clearing out the pantry and I stepped on a shard of glass that punctured the left ball of my foot.

I had to take a break to try to get the bleeding to stop. Super happy it was my left foot because at least now both of my feet hurt. Once I got back to cleaning, I found that there was no more broken glass. I found the one piece in there. With my foot.

I guess sorting out the pantry isn’t a huge step in all the improvements we want to do. But it’s a start. We aren’t on a deadline.

We just have to keep moving forward. Hopefully with less bloodletting.

So, when I say we’re kicking ass, it’s possible that I’m the one getting my ass kicked.

Still taking a few names though.

The pantry looks amazing.


Edited to add: Today is Betty White’s 100th birthday!! If you are able, please consider making a small donation to an animal rescue in her honor. Or you could donate to the rescue where we got our kitties, Alfie and Gertie.  





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  • Be careful of injuries to your feet: I once scraped the back of my heel with the pedal of my bicycle when the chain came off, and didn’t know anything was wrong until I felt like I had the flu. My mom took me to the doctor who found a red streak going up the back of my leg and gave me penicillin shots for four days in a row. I really hate needles, so it left a big impression on me.
    Zsuzs mostly replaced the roof, and added skylights. Four feet of snow fell and she’s still upstairs, so she must have been at least somewhat successful, although she still grumbles about it when I bring it up.
    Prep work. I once had a friend everyone called “Little Michelle” because her name was Michelle and she was, you know, little. I helped her move a few times, and once she called me to come help her move and the space she was living in was so filthy and full of trash that I just started cleaning. After a couple of hours I had made it to the actual floor and was sweeping the dirt and trash up when I came across a little yellow button that said “I’m not in denial” on it in black letters. I stood up and presented it to her, wordlessly, she scowled, took it from me, and I returned to my work.

  • The best laid plans, and all that. First I want to scold you for walking around bare foot, but I can’t since my feet are currently without covering. And that would make me a hypocrite. But consider the scolding from your mother or other person with the right to scold you.

    Secondly, I’m amazed that the roof was covered by your homeowners insurance. I obviously don’t know what it’s like where you live, but in South Florida the very next thing they do when you ask them for money, is up your rates. Or cancel you. That’ll teach you to ask for what you’re already paying for.

    Your poor feet. Hope you heal fast and the pinky toe isn’t really broken and healing lop-sided.

  • At least you know what you’ve done to your left foot even if the right foot remains a mystery. And you’ve replaced the water heater. I know those things can be a pain in the ass, which can be even worse than a pain in the foot. And what is it with old kitchens, anyway? Well, I’ve forgotten how old your house is, but we have an old house and it’s got a tiny kitchen that was clearly designed for just one person, and I guess it’s pretty obvious the architect was an asshole.

  • This was a hilarious read, sorry to laugh at your pain and mental anguish, but it was funny as a motherfucker. At least now my own pain and mental anguish is 37% alleviated, using your Super Scientific Method… I Tested Positive for The Rona after over Two Years of trying to Outrun it, at my Age, that was going to be a short Race where I eventually Lost. I succeeded however in getting Corona Extra, you know, like the Beer because I got COVID and COVID Pneumonia, since, well, I’ve always been “Extra”. I’m sure I’ll Imagine all kinds of improvements I could make to this new Home as I languish in Quarantine with a houseful that will drive me to the brink of Insanity… Two Teens, Two Male Adults, One Old Disabled Man and a Partridge in a Pear Tree… they all know not to holler Gramma or Honey since I’m on Caregiver Break recovering from The Rona… what I’ll do to catch a break…

  • We recently bought a hundred year old house and if I told you the list of things that needed to be fixed, you’d be reading for days. Roof, foundation, driveway, all needed to be replaced or repaired. So of course, the one thing I decided absolutely had to be taken care of immediately… was the pantry. My husband could not understand my need to do this, but I don’t get his need to continuously organize all his drill bits, either. I did not cut my foot on glass while doing this project, but I did have a container of laundry detergent fall on my head, knock me off the ladder, and then hit me again when I fell on the floor. For anyone watching, it was really quite a feat of acrobatics. The good news was, I now could blame a concussion on my irrational obsession to organize the pantry.

    • Okay, I might be laughing a LITTLE at this, only because it resonates.

      Once, I gave myself a concussion with a large Pyrex measuring cup. I have no one to blame but me. Amazing Graceless.

  • I hope your pinky toe gets better. I smashed my right pinky toe months ago and just realized a couple weeks ago that I have like a blood blister under the toe nail that is growing out I guess. Weird. Pantries have a way of collecting crap. Cleaning out the pantry is never fun. The best part is all the room you have when you’re done. Hang in there. Sending good vibes for all your projects. We have a couple we would like to accomplish this year. 🙂

  • I’m probably the only person in the United States that has not taken on any major home projects during the pandemic. No painting. No remodeling. No replacing or refinishing the sad, sad bathtub in my downstairs bathroom. The wallpaper in the kitchen (I won’t mention its age) sags. Like me. Ah, procrastination. If I kicked ass I would probably dislocate my bad back. If I tried to take names I would have to rummage for a pen and paper. Hope your doctor figures out the toe problem. And don’t do what I did once – I managed to break one toe each in two separate incidents. Good luck!

By Michelle


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