This Old House: Episode 1

The other night Jeremy suddenly goes, "My God, that just scared the hell out of me! That tapping noise scares me every time. When are you going to do something about that?" The tapping noise he was referring to was the two strips, the outer, vinyl layer, of the ugly wallpaper border hanging a good three feet down the wall. This hanging border wouldn't be so bad except it'd been hanging down like that a good two (okay, maybe three) months, and the slightest breeze in the air makes it tap spookily against the wall. It wasn't that I intended for it to be like that so long; it's just I got really busy after I started the project with work and school (and pretty much anything but removing the wallpaper border). It really wouldn't be so bad, except for a several factors: 1) The boarder is at the top of the 12 foot wall, and I'm slightly scared of heights 2) I have virtually no coordination; therefore, I'm also slightly scared of ladders and 3) The thing has become cemented to the wall, so there is no easy and quick way, while 12 feet in the air, to get the thing off.

So today I finally worked up the nerve to tackle the project again. After three more hours of work, I had beaten the ceiling fan off kilter, cracked the glass in the transom above the kitchen door, finally managed to get myself off the refrigerator, and only managed to remove, roughly, another 10 feet of wallpaper border. The first problem was me, with my lack of coordination, trying to move a 10 foot ladder around the kitchen by myself. The next thing I know, I hear this loud thunk noise and little bits of ceiling fan dust bunnies are floating all around me. Yep, I'd moved the ladder right into the fan. So I readjust and try to move the ladder again. Thunk. Move. Thunk. This must have gone on, intermittently, for about five minutes. While I did finally get the ladder in place, the ceiling fan now has a new swaying, wobbling pattern to it's movements. I tried to reassure Jeremy that this was just normal ceiling fan behavior when he came in, but he just looked at me and shook his head.

I finally get the border removed from above the doorway, but then I'm in trouble. The next section is not only above the kitchen cupboards, but also above the refrigerator. Sighing, I realize I have no choice but to climb on top of the fridge if I want to reach it. So up I go. This upward movement was no problem at all, and within about an hour or so, I had removed another lovely 3 foot section. The problem came when it was time for me to climb down. Climbing down things has always been scarier than climbing up (yes, one time Jeremy talked me into rock climbing a very "small" [as he put it] rock. I think it took him and his friend about half an hour to talk me back down the rock). I look down, and suddenly my ladder seems much farther away then it should be, and I have no idea how I managed to get on top of the refrigerator from that distance. So I crouch on top of the refrigerator weighing my options. I don't think I can reach the ladder. I can't climb down onto the counter because the microwave is in the way. My brain is reeling. Not that I'd be embarrassed (it takes a lot anymore for that to happen), but I really don't want to be stuck on top of the refrigerator until Jeremy comes inside. He's working on his own project outside, so who knows how long that could be! I must have sat up there contemplating my situation for a good 10 minutes (well, it was more contemplating things like, what if I have to pee while I'm stuck up here. . .). Finally, I realized that I could hang onto the cupboard with one hand, and then reach as far forward as I could. Doing this, I just barely managed to snag the ladder and inch it close enough so that I could finally climb down. Freedom!

So, I go about my merry wallpaper removing way for another hour. By this time, I've hit the corner. Since the cupboards are in the way, there is absolutely no way I can turn the ladder and get close enough to the wall. Seemed like an excellent reason to quit for the day to me. Now, the next problem comes. I need to get the ladder folded up and out of the kitchen. Wrestling with it, I manage, after about five minutes, to fold it up, somehow managing not to bean myself in the head or have it topple over on me, which I think is quite a feat! I now start carrying it to the door, very carefully avoiding the ceiling fan. In fact, I'm so proud of myself, when CRACK! I walked the ladder right into the glass transom above the door. The glass doesn't fall out (still hasn't, thank goodness), but it spider cracks in like 5 different directions. Of course, I'm near tears. For one, this is really old glass, for two, the wallpaper border has fried what little patience I have left, and for three, if the glass falls out, there's nothing to hold the heat in the kitchen anymore.

Immediately, I'm off and running outside to find Jeremy, who calmly reassures me. As I'm headed back inside, I hear Deb come around. Deb is a woman who is excellent at construction work and helps Jeremy with jobs I can't (that's pretty much all construction work. I'm not saying I couldn't help, but for both our sanity and the sake of more rapid progress, it's better that I don't). She asks Jeremy what happened, I hear Jeremy explaining, then I hear Deb say "Bless her heart." Yep, I've become a "bless her heart" case. It's the southern way of lightening an insult. Here in the south, if someone says bless her/his heart, this is usually followed with some sign of the person's ineptness or stupidity, like "Bless her heart, but she can't even figure out how to make Kool-Aid." Then I hear Jeremy telling her, "Yeah, but she hasn't mentioned how many times she knocked the ladder into the ceiling fan." Hmmmm. How'd he know?