Fairy God-munchers

Reading this blog throughout the seasons, you’ll undoubtedly know that I love the sun and the heat, and I loathe the cold and socks. The weather is just starting to break. The lawn is covered with leaves only hours after the grass has been scraped clean. And, the sun sets hours before I’m ready for the day to end.

I realize now that I was born to be a bubby in Boca. I need warm weather all year round. I’d prefer the occasional company of grandchildren to the day in-day out torture of my children. And, I love to kvetch. Kvetching is socially acceptable when you’re a bubby in Boca.

On top of the shift in weather, I have to turn my attention to my house. The kitchen is just about the only room I can stand to be in which is unfortunate considering I don’t cook. Ever. But we gutted the kitchen when we first moved in, and it looks nothing like the rest of my dark, dilapidated house.

The living room is particularly gloomy because of the porch that blocks what little light our house gets from the hours of 2 to 4PM. During the summer, we sit on the porch and watch neighbors stroll by while we sip our cocktails. The walls were a dirty shade of cream, and no one had painted them for years. We figured we’d sand the frosting-like peaks of textured plaster one day, so we left the walls as they were and ignored them.

And then one evening, our Fairy God-Munchers paid a visit. Lois and Mindy used to live behind us (or we lived behind them), and they were the first neighbors we met 6 years ago. How delighted we were to meet a lady-couple with children. Their daughters were much further along in school than Asher was, so we figured we could learn loads from these seasoned moms.

But Lois & Mindy offered much more than motherly wisdom. They were handy! They knew everything about fixing up and decorating, and they did most of it on their own. Their house was stunning, and they provided plenty of DIY advice and encouragement – like the time they came over for dinner and said, “You know we look right down on to your roof. Are you going to replace it any time soon? We don’t think it’ll last another season.” Or, “Isn’t it time you painted your living room walls? Why don’t we just come over and do it for you?” And they did. If you don’t have handy lesbians in your life, you best get out and get some!

Those ladies showed up one morning and painted walls and ceilings in a few hours and brought new life into our tired house. And, just when we thought they had enough, they offered to help us tile our fireplace.

“You know,” said Lois, “I’ve got my own nippers.”

“Why, Lois,” I answered, “I don’t believe a lady has ever offered her nippers to me before now.”

“AND I’ve got my own wet-saw,” she added.

“Wet what? Oh my.”

And that is how our fireplace, which was once surrounded by a dingy border of crumbling, grey bricks, became a focal point extraordinaire. So inspired was Lois, that she convinced us to finally tackle the backsplash in our kitchen which had gone unprotected and under-adorned for years. Gabriella became the apprentice to our Fairy-Godmunchers, and yours truly adopted the role of tile selector and documentarian. I don’t do labor. It’s a post-pyramid thing.

What I used to describe as fall foreboding is now fall fabulosity! I can face my elderly home with new hope and vision for what could be. Thank you Lois and Mindy and my able Gabriella for tiling and grouting and wet-sawing. You ladies rock my world with your tools and such.

YE OLD-NEW FIREPLACE

TILING


NIPPING