Wendy's Day

Wednesday was Wendy’s day – one might say.

The outdoor conditions were unseasonably perfect: sunny, dry, warm with a light breeze. My mental conditions were good too: no errands to run, no appointments to attend, no articles to write, no lessons to plan, no dinners to host, no kids’ sporting events to make. The day was MINE. I had one goal: to finish staining the garage siding.

I’d done the west and south sides on different afternoons and planned to take on the east side next. The north side still needed a couple rows of cedar shakes. My husband, who begrudgingly plays carpenter in his spare time, had picked up another bundle but not yet found time to install the final pieces. He surprised me Tuesday evening. Arriving home from his day job, Dan parked his motorcycle, went straight to the bedroom, changed into work clothes and headed outside to finish putting the cedar shakes in place. The sun was setting, so I took his hunting dog for an evening walk. Dusk set in as I returned Moose to his kennel. I walked up the slope to our house and heard Dan say, “I’m done!”

With that, the stage was set for my finish too. I rose early Wednesday morning, saw the boys and Dan off to school and work and set to my own. Having worn out all our foam brushes, I found an old grout sponge and cut it into strips. This would be my coloring tool. I thought: What a blessing to stay focused and improvise rather than give into the distraction of “running into town” for supplies. Even in a pinch, God provides. And as it turned out, this tool was far superior to anything I’d ever used!

With the sponge, I transferred the honey-gold stain from the bucket to the wood. Shake by shake. Log by log. I began to see the wall as a coloring book page, taking on a hue and matching the surrounding landscape in its autumn dress. As my bucket emptied, I thought of the paint-department salesman from whom I’d bought the stain last fall. While I debated whether to purchase one or two buckets for the sale price, he convinced me of two by saying, “Them law-ogs is thir-stay.” He was right. The wood demanded a double coat to bring forth a deep, waxy sheen. It was beautiful. Just like the day.

I had to pinch myself. It’d been a long, long, LONG time since I’d had a whole day to spend outdoors in beautiful weather to do exactly what I wanted to do, with no distractions and no guilt. Today, I decided, I could LET myself be happy. I could enjoy this moment of transformation – the moment I’d waited many years to come – the moment when our place would look complete, at least from the outside. The rooftops would all be red. The trim would all be white. And, the walls of the house and the garage would all be gold. Our place would have a Scandinavian flair. No more run-down, ramshackle hillbilly look.

Shortly before 5 p.m., the moment arrived. I gave the east side the final lookover, wiped away drips, spots and other imperfections, covered the stain bucket, put away tools, threw out two pairs of holey-plastic gloves and closed the garage door. Time was ticking. Reality returned. Noah was home from school. Isaac and Aaron soon would come from cross-country and football practice. I made mini pizzas for supper, walked Moose, showered, grabbed Dan’s “Men Sing” choir folder and two bottles of water, hurried to meet him at church-choir practice, stayed afterwards to make Sunday School plans with the pastor, went home, helped Noah with spelling words, had Isaac pick up Aaron from his friend’s house, and then listened to Isaac unwind about PSEO classes before dropping off to sleep before Dan got home from his second singing session which ended with a cool one at a tavern.

It wasn’t until early Thursday morning that I finally got a first “real look” at our place. As I rolled the garbage can back from the end of our driveway the sun was coming up. Looking ahead at our place, I noticed the red rooftops, the white trim and the golden walls glowed.

Deep down inside, I did too!