Category Archives: marital limits

in other news…

i have so much to blog about! scratch that. i have nothing to blog about. at least when it comes to working on the house. i hung out with friends all week rather than doing the few tiny projects i had in mind. i briefly contemplated breaking up with said friends and becoming a total loser who only works on her house so i would have things to blog about -but then i quickly realized i already am a borderline  loser and if i got rid of all my friends, i’d have no one to hang out with in bungalowhutch. so i succumbed to happy hours  and nothing got done around the house. oops.

in other news. apparently it’s opening day. not exactly sure what that means, but i do know it has something to do with sports and why i’m sitting in breckenridge sans husband, with a cup of coffee getting ready to ski/blogging (ahhh the life…). allegedly, mr. hutch will be arriving after opening day. anywho, since i’m going to have to broaden the content of this blog, i thought i’d share with you the role “sports” play under bungalowhutch’s roof. this is actually recycled material – i wrote it for an old blog that died. so it can’t be good that i’m reusing it here, and you may have already read it. but i want my husband to know how important opening day is to me by recognizing it on the blog i got nothing else.

“it’s never just a game” october 2011

yes, howie is that fan.
yes-mr hutch is that fan.

so i have time to write a blog. why? ’cause i thought i’d be heading to pick up my husband from the pats game (they are playing the broncos today) and then heading to church to catch our evening service. however, my phone hasn’t rang and i have that slight heart-sinking feeling that i get when i suspect what i fear most in sports: overtime. i check nfl.com and my intuition is right, the game is in overtime.

wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

to be honest i’m not even sure how football overtime works. but i have a feeling we won’t be making it to the service tonight at church, and that  i’m on my own for a while. leaving me time to write a blog, and what better subject than one i often ponder: the american male’s obsession with sports.

let’s look at mr.hutch’s day today as a case study:

we wake up …

H:”what time is it?”

B: “9:45am”

H:”i gotta watch the game!”

(runs downstairs to settle into the couch just in time for the first pitch, meanwhile i leave the house for a bit come back to find mr. hutch hasn’t moved.)

H: “i’m starving! i haven’t eaten anything allll day.”

( first noting to myself he’s only been up for an hour or two and second how being so engulfed in the game often results in mr. hutch  forgetting to do normal survival things like eating food and using the restroom)

B: “why don’t you eat something?”

(giving me a pathetic look that allows me to know exactly what he’s about to ask)

H: “can you get me something? i don’t want to miss any of the game…”

B: “sure”

(i make mr. hutch some lunch and go about my day. an hour or so later mr.hutch runs up the stairs frantically)

H: “can you drop me off at the pats game, we gotta go now”

B: “OK – did the sox win?”

H: “gamesnotovergottagonow!!!”

in the five minute card ride to the stadium (a perk of living in denver!) we listen to the baseball game. i notice mr. hutch is biting his nails, something he only does when he’s nervous about a sports game. apparently the sox were on the verge of blowing a huge lead which would result in them ending their season. the game isn’t over  when we pull up to the stadium and boston’s fate hangs in the air as he piles out of the car…he’s already onto the next game: pats v. broncos.

sports + howie = joy
sports + mr. hutch = joy. that is unless they lose.

and so here i sit and wait for the call to go get him. knowing that when we get home we’ll bicker about the fact that he wants to watch sunday night football or the rockies playoff game. i’ll say you’ve been watching sports ALL day, he’ll say it’s a REALLy important game…

but that’s the thing. it’s always a really important game, and it’s NEVER just a game.

i grew up naive to this world of sports. we played sports as kids, but never competitively.  thanksgiving dinners were never scheduled around football. superbowl sunday was just an excuse to hang out with the boys from the church youth group. i have never been to a bulls game despite the fact that they won the championship thingy every year for a while when i was a kid. i’m scared of the the NHL. my first and only cubs game in high school was a blast but more so for the amusement of the drunk men in suits hitting on katie and i then for  baseball itself. and i had always prided myself on being an nfl stadium virgin until two weekends ago when i gave up the v-card to a broncos game – even then i was only using the game as an excuse to catch up with my friend maggie.

clearly once a foreigner in the world of sports, i certainly think i have come along way since i met howie. now i can say i actually enjoy GOING to a red sox game, i actually OWN a red sox shirt or two, i have filled out my fair share of brackets, and i know A LOT about tom brady (thanks to the fact that he is dating gisele and constantly in US weekly). further, i have made an attempt to bridge the gap by  surprising howie with tickets and jerseys from time to time, asking how the game went, finding out what’s going on with the players, glancing at the sports illustrated now and then….

me clearly making an effort - unlike the sleeping girlfriend behind me
me clearly making an effort – unlike the sleeping girlfriend behind me

despite my efforts, i’m still not that close to understanding the seductive nature of the game or the man my husband turns into when watching it. sometimes when he starts screaming at the tv or cheering as if there are 30K fans cheering right next to him, i wonder if he has been overtaken by the sports aliens. worse then the fear that my husband is an alien, i dread the fact that there are many  more squabbles that we’ll have about how to spend our sundays, many more times i’ll wonder if mr. hutch knows more about sports then he does about what i do for work, and fearing he cares more about his fantasy football team then spending time with me…

please note howie's attire the night we got engaged. his he smiling 'cause i said yes? or 'casue the sox won?
please note howie’s attire the night we got engaged. is he smiling ’cause i said yes? or ‘casue the sox won…

since i’ve started writing this post, i have again checked nfl.com, the pats lost. uh oh. mr. hutch texted me, he’s going to walk home… i know he’s totally bummed out and the strange thing is, is that i’m a little bummed out too. not because i love the patriots, but because mr. hutch does. it’s important to him. it brings him excitement, joy, sadness, pride. and though to me it will probably always just be a game, loving the game is part of who mr. hutch is. and no matter how much i resist, whine, complain and cease to understand, i’m not going to change who he is. and since today is like the worst day in history for boston sports fans, i’ll be sad too. ’cause mr. hutch is my boston sports fan and in some twisted weird way, that’s what love is. that’s the way love works.

red sox fans.
red sox fans

update. i CRUSHED mr. hutch in the bracket thingy this year. i’ve never felt so good…oh and i have some new updates about ardie, but i’m not sure i want to share them with you because you all shot down my ideas about communicating with betty. i’m bitter.

a very important update

we went to home depot and subsequently have done quite a bit of stripping and mounting* in the last 48 hrs. tho this is miraculous at this point in the renovation game, we’ll have to get to that juiciness later because i have a VERY important update that trumps all.

first, if you are new to bungalowhutch, have a bad memory, or love me and want to make it seem like lots of people read my blog,

click and read here before continuing.

 

 

shame on you for not clicking and reading. anyways…

ardie got a birthday card from betty!!!!!!

it went a little something like this…

“may many special joys

blossom all around you.

and through the year ahead,

may happiness surround you!”

love,

betty

some observations.

OMG!

how can betty not know ardie has passed at this point? i’m beginning to think ardie is still alive and just forgot to forward her mail…. or that i cannot relate to betty’s generation in the slightest. with cell phones, facebook, and twitter, how can you not know your friend is no longer living!?

then i feel sad. the christmas card had a long, albeit depressing, personal note. nada in the birthday card. just a generic hallmark greeting and a measly, “love, betty.”

i can’t help but wonder – does the lack of personalization imply a passive aggressive message to ardie for not reciprocating the correspondence?

“what ardie? you too good to send me a christmas card!? can’t remember my birthday!? don’t care that ronda left bill without paying any bills!?”

but really. all this makes me think about me. i wish i had friendships like betty & ardie. someone who would send me a birthday card even after my expiration date.  if it weren’t for facebook, my generation wouldn’t even know what or when a birthday was.

so – how long do i let this go on? no, not my moral qualms about the lack of personalization in our generation…how long do i let the one-way correspondence between betty and ardie go on?

do i crush betty and fill her in on the fact that ardie has gone from bungalowhutch to bunglowheaven – while simultaneously redeeming ardie’s good name so betty realizes it’s not that ardie didn’t want to send her a christmas/birthday card, rather she was simply not around to do so?

or…

 

do i pretend to be ardie and start corresponding with betty?!?!?!

i feel like this is a no brain-er, but leave a comment – and the best advice wins a free stay at bungalowhutch.

oh and in other very unimportant updates – i like to play this game (no, not paralyzed) where i suggest to mr. hutch that we wash the sheets late on a sunday night, hoping we fall asleep before the dryer buzzes because i secretly hate sheets and LOVE life with out them. sometimes this strategy results in many glorious nights before either one of us is motivated to make the bed despite the fact that mr. hutch LOVES sheets. other days, mr. hutch dumps the clean sheets on my head a mere ONE day after the buzzer and reminds me of a silly promise supposedly i made, having something to do with me making the bed.

i’m bummed today was the latter.

(food for thought: why the heck does anyone read this blog? i’m writing about a dead person’s mail and my loathing for sheets.)

 


*doors and light fixtures.


conversation

a conversation in reference to my last post:

mr. hutch – “are you seriously blogging about that”

me – “yes, what’s wrong with it. this is great progress.”

mr. hutch – “so the blog’s dying?”

me – “ugh!”

what i wanted to say was – no mr. hutch – the blog is not dying. someone is just not doing any work around the house and therefore there is little to blog about! stop watching sports center american idol and put me up some trim!

which reminds me of another conversation some people had:

me: “are you ever going to work on the house again?”

mr. hutch “what is there to work on?”

me: “ugh!”

 

seriously mr hutch!? seriously? some promises were made by this guy this morning. we’ll see if and when they come true.


p.s. just in case you’re wondering what i’m doing around here (other than slave driving) after hours and hours of intense online shopping, i think i’ve found the perfect light fixtures. very excited – perhaps i’ll show them to you on my dying blog.

 


 


wake-up call

so we’re a little less white trash this morning as evidenced by the fact that there is no longer a sofa on our front porch.

the unfortunate part of getting the sofa into the house is that the process itself caused me to reconsider my vows to mr. hutch. it was a total disaster and i’m not exaggerating when i say it was the worst part of this whole experience to date.

i wish i had a video of the whole experience. it was awful. i was wearing wedge heals (that’s all i could find and mr. hutch wouldn’t let me wear his shoes) and the stupid thing was SO heavy and bulky and awkward to carry. i’d make it like two feet before we would have to set it down and regroup. mr. hutch was getting so frustrated with me (and my shoes) which only made my claws come up. did i mention it was a disaster?

needless to say we got the stupid thing in and i went to bed reconsidering my plans to replace it due to never wanting to have to move it again.  my sleep consisted of nightmares about the 239048 boxes that needed to be unpacked and so i woke up at 4a. i surrender to my insomnia around 5a and started unpacking boxes. the first of which was the espresso machine. i made an americano using very hot water from the bathroom sink (kichen is still not hooked up – hopefully today). it didn’t work that well but i was ecstatic to be making history at bungalowhutch with my first cup of home brewed coffee here. a giant victory.

this is why i woke up at 4a

4 hours later i’m feeling surprisingly chipper about the progress of our little bungalowhutch. if mr. hutch follows the strict orders he was given by a certain someone, we should be fluffing pillows in the guest room just as the mother-in-law arrives. exciting!

tada! do you love it?

don't be fooled. nothing is actually organized, it's just all thrown into the cabinets. but at least it's not in a box anymore!

other side of the kitchen. clearly we need to finish the painting and mr. hutch needs to get rid of those cords like he promised he would.

that cord hanging down will one day be an island hood - when i get over how much they cost.

i almost cropped the sofa out of this picture because i'm mad at it. i have problems.

welp there you have it. bungalowhutch to date. you likey?


white trash news flash

sorry for the silence. we’ve been SO busy working on unpacking and getting settled in. we’ve been in the mountains celebrating a fabulous friend’s birthday and FINALLY trying out our new skis. they we’re sweet.

we’re back now.

and we’re technically moved in. in a somewhat disastrous fashion as predicted. oh, and we’re now officially white trash neighbors.

i’ve always preferred a ghetto alter ego, but apparently white trash suits me as well.

evidence that has brought me to this conclusion:

*our couch is on our front porch (we can’t seem to fit it inside our teeny tiny old doors).

*when we order out, we ask if they can bring us plates, napkins, and cups (we use these as our  dishware).

*our window treatments consist of bath towels hung up with nails (or ardie’s old bright pink blinds).

*our backyard resembles is a junkyard (complete with a pink bath tub filled with metal to scrap**).

*we sneak into other people’s houses to shower (thanks to our priorities we didn’t have time to get that grout up in the tub)

*we solicit meal invitations. (anyone?)

*we wear the same clothes over and over again (at least i do, mr. hutch has taught oscar to dig through the piles of clothes to find him something clean).

*we got giant nascar tattoos on our back.

 

i really wish i could post pictures of bungalowhutch but i can’t seem to find my camera cord in our junkyard.

blogs really aren’t that fun with out pictures so here is one of that tattoo i mentioned. mr. hutch has a matching one.

 

it's a beauty isn't it?

t-minus 48 hours til mr. hutch’s mom comes to visit. so we’ll be cracking down the next two nights to get the place a little less white trash and a little more pottery barn yuppie.

the granite comes today and my favorite plumber comes back tomorrow to make our kitchen functional. so hopefully we’re in good shape.

and btw – thanks to all our friends who helped us move in last thursday. especially since while you were hard at work, mr. hutch was pretending to help the cabinet guru but was really just eating pizza & watching the TV. please forgive him.

**if you don’t know what that means you certainly aren’t WT.


progress & priorities

i don’t even know where to begin. we made so much progress on our house this past weekend and i think our priorities really showed their true colors.

i’ll try to sum things up in some weekend statistics, some pictures, and a little tale for your listening reading pleasure…

friday thru sunday stats:

combined hours mr. hutch & i spent working at the house this weekend: 93

number of friends that showed up: 9

trips to home depot: 11

meals that consisted of fast food: every single one….so that makes 9 (i think i should probably leave the nutritional stats out of this list)

amount of showers taken: 0

gallons of paint used: 8

staples removed from the floor: 2,348,745,23o,430,458

marital fights: 1.5

beers consumed: can’t say in case my grandma reads my blog.

and now for the picture portion of this recap:

a little QT with the cabinet guru (more on him later) on saturday morning. mr.hutch would like for you to know that he was sweating while holding this up. “take a picture of me holding this thing up! it’s really heavy!”
refueling after the sweating
starting to look like a kitchen! fancy that.

a little window framing and painting - damn that sliver of pink you see on the left. it's all that remains from the original PINK bathroom.

 

beginning the work on transforming the antique dresser into a bathroom vanity. mr. hutch’s pants were also mad at the pink sliver and decided to rip.

 

just in case you were hoping for a close up. mmmm...

so excited about how this little project is turning out and check out the painted beadboard on the walls. sexy.

end of the day saturday. can you tell what's wrong with this picture??*

apparently our construction dog worked hard too.

appliances showed up to party. one day i'll tell you about how we fit a 36 inch fridge thru a 32 inch door. until then - anyone know how to hook these up?

we worked really hard...

sunday the bathroom became completely functional. best. day. ever. i'm now not only in love with the electrician, but also the plumber.

the first shower head this house has EVER seen. i hope ardie is smiling down from heaven at the sight of this.

end of sunday. after all the tack board and staples came up. it's about 1:00a in this picture and these floors are ready to be refinished.

ok – so now for the tale.

(*the tale explains what is wrong with that picture in case you couldn’t figure it out.)

here’s the reason we we’re pulling staples out at 1a and why there is still a sliver of pink in the bathroom. because the tv was our someone’s priority on both saturday and sunday. first on saturday with the guy installing it, needing to track down the right cables,  blah blah blah. and then on sunday when we had to install the wall mount and hook it up there. and then worst of all when mr. hutch went to re-hook it up in the kitchen it didn’t work. sound the alarms because the time he decided to de-hook and then re-hook  happened to be in the 4th quarter of the pats game and someone (it wasn’t me) was freaking out. and then those football players lost (and thanks to making sure we got that tv hooked up we had to see it with our own eyes) which of course hurled someone into a deep dark depression (again not me) and then he ripped out all of our new cabinets the productivity level really dropped as far as work went.

so the moral of this tale is. make sure your priority is getting the tv set up before anything else (sink, toilet, appliances – even before finishing the tile to get rid of the pink in the bathroom**) so that the stuff that absolutely must get done by monday morning (pulling up the staples people) doesn’t get started til 1op and you get to work on it til 1a.

*this might have something to do with the marital fight stat you saw above.

there you have it. a weekend recap. can’t wait to post some pics of our refinished floors!


crabby

this is going to be short and sweet because i’m crabby.  i want you folks to know that this renovating thing is not all rainbows and butterflies. sometimes it sucks.

like today.

mr. hutch & i met at the house at 10p (that’s right, 10p.) to rip up all the carpets.  now i can race over before work tomorrow to meet with the floor refinshing guy who apparently needs to actually be able to see the wood floors to quote us on refinsihing them. i think that’s lame, but i’m crabby so what do i know.

it was one of those days that started out long and just got worse. i don’t know if i’m nostaligic from the weekend  (i miss our friends. curses to the day we left boston*) if i haven’t switched over from vacation mode.  if i’m finally feeling the effects of trying to live out of someone else’s living room. or if we’re just too over committed and really have no business trying to squeeze in redoing a house to our already ridiculous life.

actually moving into bungalowhutch at this point feels like a marathon. we must be at mile 20 ’cause i’ve hit a brick wall and want to quit.

we have to cram getting a bunch of stuff done (which means working late at night) over the next few days because WE HAVE TO MOVE IN! if we don’t get in there this weekend, we might die we literally do not have time until february. and that is simply unacceptable. i’ll sell the stupid house if that’s the case. (sorry bungalowhutch, i didn’t mean that.)

i'm pretty good at being crabby

so that leaves us with options like ripping up carpet at 10 o’clock at night which makes for a crabby me. mr. hutch is a little crabby too. at one point i said i was over this whole remodel thing. he said he never wanted to do it in the first place. oops. i forgot about that minor detail.

here’s the thing. i know we’ll be so happy and so excited and so in love with bungalowhutch one day. today is just not that day.

oh and this is not an attempt for you to feel sorry for us. however you should feel sorry for my amazing sister and broinlaw who continue to put up with the world’s worst roomates (us). i’m going to pay them to physically kick us out so we HAVE TO MOVE IN.

there you have it. the not so fun day. the end.

i guess seeing these beauties makes me a little less crabby

tho i'm mad at them for needing to be refinished because it's going to make moving in take longer. why couldn't they have been in mint condition?

*disclaimer: i do love denver when i’m not crabby and feeling nostalgic.