There are times when my husband will shed his geekskin and don his nerd's clothing, particularly when trying to get my goat or be funny.
When making decisions about how to put together my so-called hutch, which will really be a series of shelves, I first considered that they are to hold my white porcelain ware. To show the porcelain off to their best advantage, as well as have another wood color in the kitchen- I tend to favor the Old World, unfitted kitchen look- I settled on staining them a dark color, Minwax's Ebony, to be exact. Then I figured that being that dark, I'd better make them look as English as possible, or Irish, at least, with a small nod toward the Gothic or medieval periods. (Trust me, I realize what a stretch this is for pine from the big box store.)
I futzed around in my drawing book until I had a shape for the shelf supports that I liked, and then I blew them up on the copier in the office, and used them for cutting templates. Earlier this week I finished cutting out all the shelf supports. I decided that I don't have enough room in the garage to put the shelves together assembly-line style and opted to put them together the old-fashioned way, i.e., one at a time.
I got the shelf and the support section for the first shelf put together yesterday, and the first of two coats of stain on. Steve came out to the garage to get his shoes for his daily walk in the park.
"Wow!" he said, when he saw my progress. I couldn't tell from his tone of voice what he was thinking.
"They're supposed to look English," I offered lamely. He looked at them again.
"Yes," he said with mock seriousness. "They look hobbity, not elvish."
Would he say this stuff if I didn't get his references? Is this as bad a reflection on me as it is on him?
Oh jeez, do they look hobbity?
All I know is that I hope this isn't a portent for the future. And that they don't look hobbity.