October 3rd, 2026
The portico saga continues…
And if you’ve been reading right along, that should come as no surprise to you.
Came as a surprise to me.
But apparently that’s because I have a college degree from not only Southern Connecticut State University, but also The School of Hard Knocks.
That’s the place you go when you keep having to learn shit the hard way.
That’s the place you go when you’ve been living in a massive church for 15 months and you’re still believing that every project you do will take you two weeks tops.
Ha.
Ha.
Ha.
And I of all people should know better by now. Right? I mean I’m not an idiot. Maybe I’m even kinda smart… but also… not smart enough to ‘get it.’
That ‘it’ being that EVERYTHING here will take at least two weeks x seven, divide by two, then add three… months?
I don’t know. There’s probably a formula there. Maybe they’ll go over that next semester.
But you saw this coming I’m certain, and good on you.
Technically I saw this coming too… but I still clung to the grossly misguided notion that, “we’ll have this all done in a week tops…”
You know what’s even more jarring?
I turned to David yesterday and I said, “You’re going to kill me but I have one more little exterior job that I’m pretty sure I can finish before the weather makes it no longer possible to paint… I don’t even need your help for this one. AND… I should be able to knock it out… QUICK.”
He didn’t mention that the portico still wasn’t finished.
He didn’t roll his eyes.
This man didn’t fucking flinch.
He said, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
Genuine interest.
At this point he might just need an honorary degree too.
Or maybe he’s an accomplice?
My enabler?
Either way… he’s in on this crazy. All in. Mostly.
I proceeded to tell him that I was going to make the front entryway a lot less ugly with some paint. “All I have to do…” right… “all I have to do…” like this is going to be quick and easy…
“Is prime all the aluminum… I’m going to tape first (as if that would absolve me from my sins… tape… ha)… let everything sit a few days… and then I can just go back in and paint…”
He didn’t say anything. He was contemplating what I had just said. At least I think he was contemplating. I would have been.
Before he could even come up with some sort of reason as to why this was a terrible, bullshit, totally nutty idea, I added, “Best part is I already have everything I need… we don’t even need to buy a thing!”
“Ok… sounds good…”
That was it. “Sounds good.”
Sounds nuts is more like it.
Even I know it’s nuts and I’m the one that came up with it.
I know it’s nuts too because the area I’ll be painting is probably a good 12’ off the ground. And I’ve got this whole arm not fully working thing, still going on which means that when I was in my head running through how this new project thing was going to play out, I was up on the ladder. Imaginary me… no… future me… was up on the ladder hanging out 10’ off the ground reaching for the tippity top of the arch. If you’ve ever taped before you’ve painted, you know that you need two hands for that kind of shit. Right now I’ve got one and a half. My left arm just doesn’t want to go all the way up. We’re only about halfway up. So there is no way in fuck that I can tape the top of the arch.
Which means that already, I am going to need David’s help there.
Future me thinks I’d be ok with the rest of it.
But future me is just as out of touch as the current reality of me.
We’re all un-fucking-hinged here.
Even my co-conspirator who really seems to believe that I’m going to start this next project, and finish it, in a week, without roping him in: unhinged.
That’s cute though, right?
He should know better.
Fuck. I know better.
I won’t do better of course…
Let’s be clear.
I’ll keep on keeping on with the bullshit.
You better believe it.
There’s no lesson learning here.
Zip. Nada. None.
School of Hard Knocks, remember?
Maybe that makes me a sociopath?
Am I a sociopath?
Or a masochist? A glutton for punishment?
Again… I don’t think it matters. Who gives a shit about introspection when you don’t plan on changing a single fucking thing about oneself? At least in regard to your overzealous and gross underestimate of the time it ACTUALLY takes to do anything here.
Not I.
I’ll just self diagnose and remind myself how out of touch I am and then continue on my way.
That’s it.
Insane!
Insanity!
Isn’t that the definition of… the very example of insanity…? Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome?
So I’m insane and my husband is enabling me.
That tracks.
Who, after all buys a 7,000 square foot church with a leaking basement and a leaking 60’ tall roof, with no home inspection, from 1200 miles away, knowing not a single fucking thing about the town they’re moving to?
In the words of Taylor Swift: It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me.
She’s not wrong.
And I guess… neither am I.
Now surprise, surprise, we’re behind on the portico and we’re also starting another project… another theme. Lots of themes here folks. Lots of projects. Lots of gross time judgement.
“What project did we start now?“ You want to know…
“Which one?” I’d say. No just kidding. That was a joke. I know which project. Also there are quite a few in the works but this new one?
It’s honestly not new. We’ve done it in some form or another since day one. We’ve been chipping at it slowly.
There’s been an ebb and flow, if you will.
Like the tides going in and out, so has the sanctuary flowed with our belongings both old and new. Building materials in… projects out… clothing in… donations out… beds in… couch out…
Since day one things have been coming and going; in and out of the sanctuary. Many a day I have spent organizing our lives packed and stuffed into varying degrees of both organization and chaos, folded and taped into cardboard boxes that I’ve cut open and closed back up. One flap, two flaps, three flaps and then the fourth both pushed and pulled under the last and the first. Stacking, balancing, a life sized Tetris under 23’ white oak ceilings.
On day one everything but our bed was brought up here. Up those two steep stone sets of steps and organized in groups neatly lined just one box high and two deep for easy access on both sides. David had his rows, I had mine, the kids had theirs, the kitchen had its own row and then one final row for our family’s collective belongings. On day one Jackie and I cut sheets of plastic wrap and laid it down on the floor at the back of the sanctuary, just past the rows of boxes, where we laid the kids mattresses on top. Piece by piece we brought the large sectional couch in and quickly shoved together something that roughly resembled a functional couch that we then covered in thick moving blankets. We lugged the kitchen table up the steps and set it up in the sanctuary right by the windows just above the spot that used to contain one of the largest beehives any beekeeper in this area had ever seen.
On day one we filled the sanctuary with every single thing we owned.
Since day one everything in the sanctuary has since been moved either to a whole new location somewhere in the church or to a new cluster of boxes in the sanctuary.
Which would be where we’re at now: the final push to remove everything from the sanctuary once and for all.
Now I say that with the caveat that there will be some things that will take up permanent residence in there, like say the scaffolding for instance. At some point we hope to add a ‘stage’ where the former alter once sat on the south side’s wall. The stage will be fitted with hidden doors that will enable us to store tables and chairs, scaffolding, and other things… maybe a couch and a bed safely out of place during events or for personal use. That’s way down the road… the stage.
In the meantime though we’ve got a birthday coming up for our middle son and what better time to have a sanctuary completely emptied of the remaining items we still have here than now. Beverly’s birthday was held in what is now the family quarters. At the time save for our table and pews and the brand new rugs I had bought, it was empty. Now though it’s got everything and a lot of breakable things. The last thing I want now are a bunch of kids hopped up on cupcakes and candy swinging at a zombie piñata in this space.
Which means that the sanctuary that I’ve wanted emptied since day one anyhow, will now serve as the new party place… for not only ourselves but others as well when we begin renting the space. Harrison’s birthday was the exact push we needed to clean out the space once and for all. My oldest threw an absolute fit. He was not very happy when the day’s chores involved helping us with the space. “UHHHHHHHH… this sucks!” He’s not a teenager yet but you’d have a hard time convincing me sometimes.
Does it suck?
I mean I guess if you’re twelve and you’d rather be two hours deep into gaming with your friends from Florida, sure.
What about if you’re a 43 year old woman with a bum arm and a 46 year old man who’s sick of moving shit around?
No comment (UHHHHHHHHH…. this sucks!).
What I can say though is that seeing it empty out has been very satisfying. Now we’ve still got some work to do… the sanctuary is not entirely empty yet but the plan is to have that done by Monday evening so I can start the zombie piñata on Tuesday and get to all the other shit I have to do to get ready for the party on Saturday… not to mention the tomatoes. I never mentioned the four baskets of tomatoes I had to harvest yesterday because the temps were going below 40 last night. They’re all green too. I got them planted way too late on account of my shoulder surgery (you see how much that has been fucking with me now?), but I read that you can still use them.
I got 65 fucking recipes to prove it.
65
65 fucking recipes for green tomatoes. Isn’t that something.
We have a sanctuary to finish emptying, a zombie piñata to start and finish, party favors, decor for a 3,100 square foot empty room, a portico that’s not quite done, and four baskets of fucking tomatoes (green).
I read this quote one time that being an adult basically means that daily you tell yourself, “Ok… I just have to get through this week, then everything will finally settle down.” Except it never does. At least that’s been my observation. That’s how it goes. Shit never stops… until it does… which I guess is a whole other thing entirely.
My point being that we’ve got a shitload of shit to do, that I’ve got a penchant for starting projects (as does David), that I suck at time judgement for tasks, and that did you even know up until now that there were that many recipes for green tomatoes?
Or were you better about managing your time… and had yours planted way earlier than I did?
Anyway… off to finish the sanctuary.
Wish us luck!
Above: Here’s the portico now. I still have to put up the trim around the ceiling’s perimeter, change out the light and door hardware for both doors, put up the utility closet door, do the trim for both the doors, paint the floor and stucco wall but…. what an improvement over the photo below… the portico right after we primed (which was leaps and bounds better looking than when we started).
Here’s a little time lapse of us working on the sanctuary. If you turn up the volume loud enough you might here my oldest complaining… just kidding. It’s time lapse, there’s no sound.
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