Paint Lick —
Stranger things have happened and probably do so every day.
But last Monday evening, Loretta and I were at a big-box home-improvement store to do some price comparisons with what we want and what the contractor who is going to fix our house has on offer.
Lo is not terribly happy with the selection of colors the contractor has offered for our fake shutters. She is keen on a shade of red that looks like a ripe strawberry – in fact, I believe the color is listed on a chart she found somewhere, and it is actually called, “Misty May Morning Dead-Ripe Strawberry.”
Big problem is that pre-manufactured plastic or fiberglass fake shutters are limited to plain old red, green, brown, tan, black and what not and they don’t come in colors that require five words in the title. You either like red or you don’t.
Anyway, the guy we have settled on to repair all the hail-and-storm damage we suffered in March is trying to pin Loretta down to a color scheme for siding and roofing. He has brought out dozens of samples of almost every commercially available roofing and siding material to be found in Kentucky and has even agreed that if we aren’t satisfied with what he has to offer, we can pay the price difference between whatever he has to offer in terms of building materials and whatever the heck it takes to make Loretta happy. (Assuming, of course, that’s even possible.)
My attitude toward this home repair stuff is on the opposite end of my wife’s. I just want the house fixed. I’m tired of living in a place that looks like a bombing victim. If the color scheme has to involve at least three words, my suggestion has consistently been, “baby-poop brown.”
I just want it fixed. I want new windows and doors and roofing and siding and I just want it done. Now or sooner. I am so beyond the limits of patience here that I am ready to explode.
Anyway, I started pricing driveway sealer while we were in the store. We had already agreed that we would buy their top-of-the-line stuff and have a family working to put it down. So, while Loretta was muttering to herself and consulting sales people (“can I special order this in cranberry blushed with dew?”) it took me about three minutes to determine that the sealer and stuff to put it down with was gonna cost about $400 and change. The driveway was another one of those jobs that have been put off way too long.
Anyway, I walked out to the mailbox yesterday morning and this fellow pulled up in my driveway in a pick-up smelling of asphalt and chemicals.
He introduced himself as Tom Carrol and he said to me, “It sure does look like your driveway needs sealing.” And I said “Yep” and he said “I can do it for you right now!” And he named a price that was less than what the stuff was going to cost me if I did it myself.
To make a long story short, my driveway is now sealed. I don’t have to do another thing and I am convinced that Tom Carrol is a godsend.
I told him that I would mention him in the paper after I gave him a mess of sweet corn and maters and sent him on his way. “Satisfaction Guaranteed!” it says here on his card, and I am beyond satisfied.
As I said, stranger things have happened. Loretta may, in fact, settle on plain old red shutters, but I’m not holding my breath.
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