I Love My (Crazy) Husband

When you last heard from me--on January 30--it was moving day. I know it sounds cliche, but it seems like years have passed. We've been working around the clock to make this house our home (and, incidentally, have been compiling loads of "before" and "after" pics for upcoming posts). We've made lots of mistakes, wasted lots of time, and shared more than a few cross words with each other. We're older and wiser and maybe just a bit more cynical. And, frankly, I expected that to happen. But even though Joe and I have been married almost 8(!) years, living in this house has revealed a new, unexpected side of him. For better or worse, I think yesterday is the perfect example of my new, slightly crazy, husband.

Yesterday, it snowed. Hard.

Gratuitous picture of Max

Sure, Max looks happy and care-free playing in the snow, but that was after-the-fact. Yesterday morning and afternoon, it was windy, cold, snowy, and wet. Max was visiting his Nanni, so Joe and I decided--on such an awful day--that painting (inside) would be a good project to tackle. So imagine my surprise when, after I finished rolling some paint in our room, I couldn't find Joe. I searched the house and finally went outside. Here is what I found:

The conversation went something like this:
Me: "Joe, what are you doing?!?!"
Joe: "I'm putting these extenders on the gutters."
Me: "Do you really need to do that now?!? It is snowing and the wind is blowing 40 miles per hour!!!"
Joe: "Yes. Can you hand me that white bracket on the back porch?"
Me: "This white bracket? Here you go. It is entirely too cold to be doing this right now. You are psychotic!"
Joe (dead serious): "Kendra, there's nothing psychotic about keeping water away from your house."

What do you say to that? I threatened to take his picture and quote him on the blog. He was undeterred.


He told me he would be done in a second and asked if I wanted to get lunch at the local restaurant, the Hungry Mule. I told him I needed to go grab my scarf. Two minutes later, I opened the back door and this is what I saw.

I honestly have no idea why he was shoveling the walk while it was still snowing or how he had managed to shovel all that in the short time I had been inside. All I can tell you is that he was shoveling as furiously as I have ever seen anyone shovel.

Don't get me wrong--I appreciate that these things needed to be done. I just question whether they needed to be done in the blowing snow, especially when there were plenty of indoor projects he could have been working on.

Is there a twelve-step program for obsessive older-home owners? Or perhaps a support group for their confused, concerned partners?

I just think that yesterday, Joe could have benefited from a safe, warm place where he could have gone and said, "Hello. My name is Joe and I own an old home..."