Life with Weebles-Take 5: The Hole in the Wall Gang


Weebles is a perfectionist. Me? Not so much. Take picture hanging for example. Before Greg hangs anything he has to start with math. How wide is the picture? What is its length? How many inches from the ceiling to the middle of the wall? Then he brings out the level. Me? I’m a member of the Hole in the Wall Gang. I eye-ball it, then pound a nail in the wall and hang the sucker. Simple. This drives Greg up the wall. (no pun intended.) Oh! Something else Greg is picky about is holes in the walls, especially if it is his wall. I won’t blow a two foot hole in my walls but neither will I go to great lengths to avoid putting a nail hole in one. Paint covers up a multitude of sins.

About two years ago Weebles made me a quilt. Since I’m a writer and love books, he found some book material and made a quilt out of that. Awesome! I love it. I never had any intentions of using it for a blanket on the bed. It was too good for that. Instead I hung it on the wall of my office. Now, when I say hung, what I ready did was get a handful of nails and nailed it to my wall. The nails were very little. Just left a pin-prick in the wall and in the quilt as well. The naked eye couldn’t see either. When I sold my house and moved in with Weebles, I used the quilt as a chair cover. Yesterday I decided to hang it on the living room wall. Of course I could use help holding up one side while I pounded a nail in the other, so I ask good, ol’ Weebles to help.

First thing good, ol’ Weeb did was google how to hang a guilt on the wall. He came up with two opinions. Here is how the conversation went.
Weebles: “You need to get a dowel.”
Me: What’s a dowel?”
“A long, round stick.”
“How round?”
“Depends on round you want it to be.”
“Ok. Does WalMart sell dowels?”
“I’m sure they do.” (I wasn’t so sure; I’d never seen them in WalMart, but I never went looking for them either.)
“You need to get eye hooks too to attach to the end of the dowel.”
“What size eye hooks?”
“What’s opinion number two?”
“Get a curtain rod. (Well, hell. Why wasn’t that opinion number one?)
“How long of one should I get?”
Out came the tape measure, and off to Wally World I went while Weebles sewed loops on the back on the quilt to slide the rod through.

When I got home, we had to install the curtain rod brackets first. Out came: the ladder, the level, screwdrivers, pencils, hammer, and drill. Since Greg has no business on the ladder, I was the one that would drill the holes and screw the braces in in. Simple, right? Ohh, no. Not for me. First Greg had to find the center of the wall then figure out the center of the quilt. 2.8″ or 2.7″? What difference does it make? The quilt is 5feet wide and 72 inches long. Surely to God I could center the damn thing just by looking at it. But. I had decided to be good and let Greg handle it. After all, it’s his wall. So, all the math done. Up the ladder I went, drilled the first hole and the damn thing wouldn’t go through the sheet rock. WTH? I’d hit a stud. Really? If I’d been looking for the stud I never would’ve found it, but since I wasn’t, I hit the damn thing first drill out of the box. Greg said that was good because it would support the curtain rod better and the quilt wouldn’t rip. Seriously? It hung for two years in my house and not once did it fall or rip. I guess if I swung like Tarzan from the thing, it would’ve of eventually fell, but only if I’d hung from it.

By this time, Greg was foaming at the bit to climb the ladder and do it himself. So, we tired that. He did ok, but an ulcer grew in my gut and my hair fell out. Nope. Not a good idea. So, up I went to drill the holes, pound the little black things in the hole with a hammer, and then screw the screws in with his drill. Well, this should’ve been a piece of cake, right? Noooo. Everything was crooked. How? Well according to Weebles, because of me. Of course. Who else?

Before we started this little project I’d promised myself I wouldn’t lose my temper. The night before I’d gotten furious at Weebles for almost locking me out of the house. I went to bed so angry I could’ve chewed nails and didn’t get to sleep until two in the morning. I vowed I wouldn’t get this way with him on the quilt deal because he was only trying to make everything look good. So, I drank a beer before I started the whole mess.

Needless to say, about the fifth time I had to straighten up the crooked brackets, I got tickled. Under my breath, I told myself, “I should’ve just pounded nails in his wall and hung the damn thing.”

Both of us were sweating like we’d been picking cotton all day. The sweat and steam fogged my glass. I couldn’t find reverse on the drill to back the screws out. The beer hit, and I laughed like a loon. Weebles was kinda chuckling too, but I think I saw more humor in the whole thing than he did. But. Neither one of us yelled at one another. I didn’t cram the drill up his posterior or throw it through the front window. And about an hour later, we had the quilt hung. Hallelujah! Praise Jesus! The whole thing from start to finish only took about 2 1/2 hours. Simple? Right?

Later that night, Weebles looked over our handy work and made the comment, “See how good that looks? And we didn’t have to pound a lot holes in the wall.”

“Yeah, looks, pretty good.” I answered. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that earlier I’d hung a cork board and two pictures in my office. All without a level, screw drivers, tape measures, or a drill. Just me, a few nails, and my trusty hammer.

Oh! And I didn’t use math one time!


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1 Response to Life with Weebles-Take 5: The Hole in the Wall Gang

  1. truthsbyruth says:

    Reblogged this on .

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