Field of Little Nightmares

If I were married right now I would be headed for divorce. The kitchen is in a state of chaos that only I could handle and fortunately does not need to be made conducive to another person.  It works for me, for a little while longer anyway.  If I build it, he will show up…(no, I am not about to suggestively quote The Field of Dreams.)

It just barely works, but hey, there's coffee!

The handyguy is coming over first thing on Friday to install the insulation, bead board panels, counter tops, sink and faucet, and to teach me about electrical wiring. I am officially his apprentice for the day! My parents could not have thought of a better birthday present for me :)

I’ve been working on the railroad cabinets, cleaning the roach poops and degreasing (more later): seriously nasty stuff that has me questioning God’s reasoning for building the cockroach in the first place. What purpose do they serve? Really? The way I see it, it’s either us or them and maybe that’s the point. Maybe God is just trying to keep us on our toes. “See guys? If you build the nuclear warheads you will kill everything but these f***ers and the Twinkies they snack upon.  Is that how you want it? Roaches and Twinkies and Cher??” No Sir/Ma’am. No I do not.  And God didn’t really cuss. That’s my character defect interjected into how I think God sounds. Please take no offense as I am the first to admit that I am perfectly imperfect in every way.

I am waiting to remove this one panel that is directly to the left of my bedroom door. Behind it lie such horrors that I would like to hold off on opening Pandora’s box until the very last minute.  There is a very large amount of American cockroach poop back there and a too recently-active nest.  That story goes a little something like this:

The house came with a termite bond because back in 1995 the owners had to gut the back porch due to an infestation, and built the master bedroom suite in it’s place.  The termite bond has been renewed every year since as a way of insuring that if it ever happens again, it will be a far less expensive endeavor.  Well, my renewal came up and the house needed to be inspected.  The guy shows up, does the crawl space shimmy and then starts admiring my demo work in the kitchen. I pipe up about this one panel that I am afraid of, he pulls it back and reveals three honkin’ buggers just chilling out as if they owned the place.  Spray, spray here; spray, spray there…then all over. 

They come pouring out.

It’s at this point that I am screaming and in tears, and Petey is all up in the mayhem and foolishness.  The guy just stands there chuckling, “Boy, I’m sure glad I was here for this!”

Yeah, me too.  God looks out for me and does for me what I cannot (and should not) do for myself.  Even when it comes to killing other creations, or whatever.  I just lost about three years off of my life I think.