They don't build 'em like they used to

Yes, that's my husband. Not bad for a man in his 50's. I think he needs to work out a bit more, but, I really can't complain.

Mr. Cruisin is a remarkable man in many ways. This is not the first time I've written about my groom, and of course, won't be the last.

That's because he continues to provide me with excellent fodder for my blogging journey.

Now, unlike most Jewish men, my hunk can swing a hammer, climb a ladder, manuever a drill, tote that barge, lift that bail...yeah, yeah, you get my drift.

He must have somehow been blessed with a mutant gene, that allows him to set a plan in motion...fix, build, and just about do anything.

Thing is, he really CAN do just about anything he puts his mind to. He spends time reading and educating himself, until he knows the ins and outs of whatever it is he sets out to accomplish.

He has taken on woodworking...building two beautiful wall units, a kitchen table, and various other projects involving wood.
He can fix leaks, solve electrical problems, build gates, install broken windows...you name it...he can do it.

The main thing is, he's not afraid to try...

anything.

So, when he discovered that our wood patio cover of almost 20 years was rotting away due to termites (hey, I actually understand those little guys...they go after wood like I go after icecream) and rot in general, he pronounced that he was going to rebuild the entire patio cover.

Now, mind you...this man is well into his 50's. This is no easy undertaking for a guy in his 20's. It means tearing down all of the existing wood, moving beams, climbing up and down a ladder, bringing in new wood, painting the wood, and climbing up the ladder and carefully placing the wood to form a new patio cover.

Whew!

My theory, of course, is to F*#KING HIRE someone.

Which he did actually think about doing. He even had someone come out to give an estimate. Of course the guy never called back, which set my man in motion.

Every day for about two weeks, Mr. Cruisin would walk outside...

and look up. Yes, that's right...look up.

Gaze, contemplate, think, gaze some more and think some more. If I didn't know better, I'd swear there was a Hooter's waitress sitting on top of the patio overhang that he was looking at everyday.

Truth be told, I could deal with that. Makes alot more sense to me than watching my husband look longingly at a patio cover.

But that's how I knew...I saw it coming. Each day his head would tilt just a little more. The drool became more and more prominant.

Until finally, about one week ago...he came to me and said "Cruisin-mom...I'm fixing the patio...by myself".

"Oh crap" I thought. (or said out loud, I can't remember which).

Before I could take a breath, he was hammering, pounding, and in general, ripping it up. The cover was "goin down". And that was that.

Now, I don't mean to sound ungrateful...because I'm incredibly grateful. He has saved us more money over the years, than even I can figure out what to do with.

But, it's worrisome. I worry about him climbing up and down, and straining himself. This is no easy undertaking...but can I stop him?

Pu-leeze. Of course I can't.

I tell him what I think, (you shouldn't do this, pay someone, what if you fall off the ladder, it's too much for you, blah, blah, blah) while I watch the words breeze in one ear and out the other.

And then, I surrender. I stock the fridge with plenty of diet coke, and the cupboard with plenty of chips (to keep him nourished of course) sit back, and watch my man go to town.

I married a man who is not afraid to work hard and create.

He inspires me everyday.

As I walk through my home, if you look closely, you can see my heart beaming, (remember E.T.'s heartlight?) while I spy the numerous projects that are the exquisite creation of my husband's two hands.