About a week ago, Damon bought me some acrylic paints, a silk screener & squeegee, and a barbecue recipes book.
When I first got here, back in May, I tried to make an outdoor underground stone oven/fire pit thingy, and failed miserably at the endeavor… I had forgotten to put in a ventilation hole, it wasn’t deep enough, and overall, the design was totally wrong.
When I got the barbecue book, my desire to build an outdoor fire-pit was renewed, and yesterday I spent the day hauling rocks from a little ways up the lane to our back yard.
Once Ray caught on to what I was doing, he helped out, and took a few trips on his scooter to collect the bigger rocks I couldn’t carry.
I tried last night to start a fire in it, just to see how it would work, but I’m terrible at fires, and it fizzled out within seconds.
This morning, I collected some more dried out leaves and stuff, and I’m going to try again this afternoon to light it…I really want to cook chicken wings in it, but I guess I’m going to have to wait until it’s totally finished.
I plan on digging a hole in the middle, making it a bit deeper the easy way, and packing the holes in the rocks with mud.
All in all, I’m proud, and I like being productive and building things.
I like fitting rocks together, they’re like a big piece-less puzzle.
Donna’s leaving again soon, probably around the 23rd, for four days, which is absolutely a good thing.
Damon’s drinking a lot again, and I’m really getting weary of trying to keep our spirits up.
If any of you lovely readers have dealt with a depressed spouse, or an alcoholic partner, you know how hard it can be.
I try to be quiet and out of the way and supportive and cheery, but when you’ve got a mother-in-law that treats you like a five year old, and a husband so upset at things in his past that he yells about it, it’s hard to be that perpetually cheerful happy-girl on a twenty four – seven basis.
I’m told to ‘make the house mine’ and participate in the household, and decorate and give input, but then when I do, or I make a change to something and tell everyone, it gets moved, ignored, or ridiculed.
Sorry to rant, it’s also very hard when you have no one to talk to about these things…
I wish we could get our own place, because his mother is literally killing him, and it hurts to see him so upset.
But what can I do?
I’ll just keep on doing my own thing, and hope he eventually comes around.