If You Build It, Shed Saga Continues, part 2

 In March, I bought two cute little shed kits, on sale, from Costco. Constructing them would be fun! 

In June, my sheds still hadn’t arrived but the heat had. Constructing sheds in record breaking heat seemed like a lot less fun than it had in March. In fact, it seemed like work—something I try to avoid.

In July, the sheds finally arrived. Mark and I stopped hiking on weekends and started shed construction. I found it was a lot harder to convince Mark to stop and photograph a particularly striking arrangement of 2x4’s than it had been to get him to pause his relentless quest for elevation gained and photograph a particularly striking arrangement of flora.

Shed construction moved in stages, some slower than others. We hit a snag early on when we discovered that the kits were missing one sheet of 4x8 plywood at the proper thickness for flooring and instead had on extra sheet of the thinner, roofing thickness. Being a slavedriver/problem solver, Mark suggested we just borrow the proper sheet of plywood from the other kit until we could go to the hardware store to replace it, so that weekend’s work continued, unabated. (Note: the fine people at the shed company promptly sent a check to cover the cost of replacement.)

Look at all that room for activities! And STUFF!!

Little by little, weekend by weekend, we chipped away at the project. I developed a new appreciation for those that labored to build the pyramids. 

Eventually, we started to gain momentum. Shed One reached roofing, trim, and painting stage when in August, Mark was suddenly dispatched to California to oversee safety concerns for a railroad bridge replacement on the Dixie Fire.

Fortunately, my childhood friend Robin came over and engineered a clever system for roofing the shed. While the roof wasn’t large, it was steep—probably 45*. 

Robin, roofing. So glad we hit it off in Kindergarten!

Roofing achieved, I then set my sights on tasks I could accomplish on Shed Two until Mark returned...

Next week: Why it’s Dangerous to Live Next Door to Neighbors with a Strong Work Ethic. 

If You Build It...

Way back in the middle of March, Costco had a sale on cute little garden sheds. I happened to be in need of a cute garden shed, so I bought two. Because reasons. One of the reasons being “little” wasn’t enough space. But I figured “cute” and “sale” made up for it. Oh, sure—the sheds come as a “shed kit,” and not an actual shed, but they provide instructions, and all the reviewers –well, maybe not “all”, but many of the reviewers—said that the instructions were easy to follow, and the sheds are so cute! And on sale!

I knew from previous experience that Costco shed sell out rapidly, so I stayed up until midnight, refreshing my browser until the sale went live. As I said, I bought two. By 8:00 pm on the actual day of the sale I checked back at Costco, and yup, I was right. All the sheds were sold out. I congratulated myself of my foresight and perseverance and marked my calendar for 4 to 6 weeks, in anticipation of my sheds’ arrival. 

Now, I don’t know if you remember way back in March, but that was right around the time lumber prices started to go crazy—like sell your kidney to buy a 2x4 crazy. I started getting emails from the shed company telling me that the arrival date of my shed would be more like 6 to 8 weeks...then maybe June...possibly later in June, but definitely by the first week of July.

Just for fun, I checked the current price of sheds, Yup, they had doubled in price. I congratulated myself on my investment. And I had purchased two—so double the investment! So what if it’s taking a little longer than I anticipated?

Then June arrived and the weather went crazy—like record-setting, melt the glacier in three days, 110* degrees, fry all the trees crazy. Suddenly, shed construction in the middle of summer seemed like a terrible idea. And the sheds hadn’t even shipped yet...

Next week the shed saga continues.  

Mark's "How to Sneak Zucchini into Cornbread" Recipe

 

2 Jiffy corn bread mixes

3 cups shredded zucchini

1 stick butter, melted

1 cup Parmesan cheese

1 can drained corn

3 Tbsp Better than Bouillon chicken stock thinned with water to equal 2/3rd cup

2 eggs

2/3 cup of honey.

Mix all ingredients and pour into pan. Bake at 350° for 45 mins (possibly more) check with toothpick.

 

Try not to gloat that you just got rid of three cups of zucchini.

1001 Zucchini

 What do you do with 1,001 zucchinis? The following is a partial list of the strategies I, personally, have employed.

1) Zucchini bread

2) Zucchini cookies.

3) You can slice it.

4) You can dice it.

5) You can fry it in a pan

6) You can hide it in your flan.

7) You can use it for filler in almost any recipe.

8) You can bring zucchinis to work and guilt your co-workers into taking them.

9) Play ding-dong-ditch with your neighbors.

10) Hit up your Facebook friends, friends of friends, acquaintances, and anybody that hasn’t already had the good sense to block you and offer them zucchini.

11) Deliver said zucchini to anyone who didn’t outright say they hate zucchini—even if they aren’t home. (See number nine above.) 

12) Poke them thru any car window carelessly left 4-6” open. Honestly, people have only themselves to blame. It’s zucchini season after all! An open car window is the same a leaving a sign on your car, saying “Please deposit zucchini here.”

13) Post pictures of amazing food that your sweetie has made for you that include zucchini.

 

Yummmmm...See # 19 for ingredients list

14) Rave on and on about how GOOD, and NUTRITIOUS, and LOW CARB, GLUTEN FREE, FREE RANGE and CRUELTY FREE zucchinis are.

15) Daydream about an early frost.

16) Think about the random woman in a hair salon in Portland who claimed she pulled her zucchini plants up already. Imagine being that bold.

17) Decide she was probably a liar.

18) Buy a noodler on Amazon.

Zucchini "Noodles"

19) Did I already mention that we turned our giant zucchini into noodles and served them with butter sautéed garlic, sun-dried tomatoes, green onion, smoked salmon, shrimp, salt & pepper? Add a dollop of sour cream before serving, stir it in and top with halved cherry tomatoes---we might have an over-abundance of tomatoes as well—I promise you won’t even notice the lack of noodley carbs.

20) Write about zucchini and hope somebody reads this and mounts a midnight raid on your zucchini patch... `

Pretty is as Pretty Does

 It’s 5:00, on a Tuesday afternoon in August, and I am in the trunk of my car in the parking lot of Costco, wearing a black sundress with white polka dots. Just to be clear—I am the one wearing the sundress, not the car-- or the parking lot. I am very, very pretty.

I can explain. I am in the trunk because my keys are locked in the front seat of my car. Along with my cell phone and credit cards. And the iced coffee that precipitated this whole kerfuffle; coffee that was purchased to avoid just this kind of scenario: I tend to overbook myself; I’ve been up since 4:30 a.m., and I’m pretty (!) sure I’m going to need the caffeine to make my brain function properly. I have an open trunk, a cartload of Costco goodness, and am climbing into the trunk to see if I can reach thru the 6”x 12” armrest opening and unlatch the backseat. If I can do that, I can crawl through, unlock the car from the INSIDE and no one would be the wiser that—in an attempt not to spill my iced coffee—I instead dropped my keys into the seat next to the coffee. There’s also the part where I pushed the lock button instead of the unlock button—twice—but it takes too long to fully explain. You wouldn’t be reading about how pretty I am; you would instead be making a mental note to lock your car as you read how much zucchini I’ve inadvertently grown. Hopefully, your mental note would also include the caveat to avoid locking your keys in your car. Especially with your cell phone. Because it is very, very difficult to discretely summon assistance without it.

Did I mention I was wearing a sundress? Because I am. Decorum requires that I climb all the way into the trunk and curl my legs inside because-- dress reasons. As I am lying curled up in the back of my trunk in a busy parking lot it occurs to me that the only thing that could make this ridiculous story even better is if some well-meaning passers-by shut the lid of my trunk. I begin to giggle. I also note that I should probably vacuum my trunk more often.

Eventually, I accept the reality that my arm is too short to reach the seat latch and I’m going to have to exit the trunk-- as though it were a perfectly normal place to exit a vehicle-- and ask the kind people at Costco to Google “locksmiths near me,” and call said locksmith.

I do, they do. One hour and $154 later I am reunited with my coffee. I was right—I really, really needed it.