Womping Willows and Rocking Toilets

I just spent the last hour in a half sawing on the apple tree out front. This is the apple tree that the arborist told me to just cut down because it was so neglected and badly pruned. Ben's a tree lover and can't bear to cut down any tree, so I'm trying to thin it out. It does bear decent fruit, but the fruit gets spots and sores because the tree is so overgrown that the fruit gets damaged. At first I thought it was apple scab because I don't know jack shit about apple trees so any spot must be apple scab.

Anyway, I named part of this post "Whomping Willows" because the apple trees around here look like the whomping willow they had in the Harry Potter films. They are so wacky looking. My grandma never pruned her apple tree, but I'm guessing that the Wisconsin frost prevented it from growing out of control like they do around here. I'm imitating the job the arborist did on the back tree so all the tall branches are coming off and I'm taking out all the extra branches. There should only be one coming off each major branch. Yeah, that doesn't make sense. I should have listened better in botany to describe what I'm doing with the branches on my apple tree. I hope the thing doesn't die because of my major hack job on it, but then again it was already badly pruned and we were told to cut it down anyways.

Ben and I got in another fight last night. We just can get along when there are household projects we need to do. Ben put in the toilet all by himself the other day, and I was so proud of him. He scored major penis points for that one. He was pretty proud of himself too, but then the next day the toilet started to rock like a rocking chair. I told him about it and talked to my dad about what could be causing it. We both kind of knew it was because the previous owner of our house didn't install the floor properly under the toilet. The bathroom floor is this beautiful black granite slab, but Paul (previous owner) sloppily left a huge portion of the floor out under the toilet figuring that the nasty toilet he pulled from the trash would be covering it anyway. Well, the new toilet, doesn't have the same shape that the nasty 80's toilet has, so Paul's half-assed job is biting us in the butt. I told Ben to go to the hardware store and ask if they had any cement, or compound that we can put in the hole to level it out, but he decided last night that he'd pull a hack job too. He took the decorative tile sample we got for our kitchen and smashed it up and then puttied it together making a shim to keep the toilet from wobbling. He called me in there asking what I thought about how he fixed the toilet. I wiggled it and immediately it started rocking back and forth again. I looked at his fix and saw the tiles sticking out under the toilet and told him that he will need to go to the hardware store because that wouldn't do it. I guess I could have been more sensitive. He really thought he was clever with his tile idea, and I just got transported back to all the half-assed, hack jobs Ben has pulled over the years to fix things around the house. He's a software designer, not a carpenter. He got a little huffy and was mad that he'd have to take the toilet out. I took his anger as directed to me, like I was just a picky little bitch about every home project because I want it done right. (Common theme in our household). He kept trying to justify his logic, and I was getting madder and madder until I just left the room in frustration.

I don't know why we can't do house projects together. Every house project is a huge ordeal and fight because I AM picky and want it to be level, even, and done right, and Ben is more of a "good enough" type guy. I'm so much like my mom and Ben is so much like my dad. They squabble every time they do a job too. My dad will just lean trim against the wall for five years instead of nailing it, and that annoys the crap out of my mom. Ben reminds me of my dad in situations like that which I think magnifies my annoyance level and makes me all the more pissy because I hated the arguments between my mom and dad over household jobs and how my dad would never finish anything right.

So, now we have the kitchen floor to do. I know deep down that it would be wise to just do it ourselves and save a load of cash ($1,400) that it would cost us to get the floor guy on the Point to do it. It's not technically our money since it was from an insurance claim, but with the septic system's drainfield partially failing due to over saturation, and the $1,200 we have to give the Vancouver hospital for doctor bills, it would be prudent to just do it ourselves. I just HATE working with Ben. I know the tiles won't be evenly spaced or cut correctly, and I'll want him to redo it and he'll get mad because I'm too picky, and I'll get mad because he's not picky enough, and we'll have another war on our hand. Of course, it's not going to end up in divorce court or anything, but it will be a major headache. grr.

Yeah, I shouldn't be posting my arguments. I should censor that out, so every thinks Ben and I never fight. Fights are personal, but it's life. We made up. We're happy now, and I'm just examining on what went wrong, and if I just want to have the guy do it or suck it up and work with Ben.