Another day, same kitchen.

Yesterday was a stressful day. Infact stressful doesn't even cover it.

Hubby and his friend got started on the splash boards after a couple of coffees. Hubby always works his way into doing things, and I think that the coffees are a way of letting him think about what he's about to do without it looking like he's having to think. On a good day hubby is on fire. Yesterday wasn't really an on fire day. When hubby's on a good day, or has a few weeks to think about something without being rushed he can solve many problems. He used to be able to do this in the time it took to drink the coffee, but not now. Now things are confusing him. Measurements are one of them.

I tried to keep out of the kitchen as much as possible yesterday. It didn't work though. I was in making coffees and lunch and holding boards and picking up off cuts and plastic sheeting and other jobs that needed to be done so they didn't trip over anything. I had spent ages meticulously measuring spaces and board and ensuring that the two would go together and drawing a plan so that hubby could see what I was meaning rather than letting him struggle with trying to imagine it. This went swimmingly until I was out of the kitchen and a measurement was made (not by us) that threw the whole plan out of the window. This sent hubby into a tailspin and I was worse than whatever the worst thing you can think of is.

I just stood there and took the verbal, slightly confused over what it was I was getting wrong for, and kept my mouth shut. It is very embarassing getting shouted at infront of somebody else, especially when you're not wrong and you aren't defending yourself. Ten minutes of getting shouted at and it dawned on me that it wasn't one of my measurements. I looked at hubby and just pointed at friend. There was a moment of realisation flash across his face and he just nodded, smiled at me and held my hand for the briefest of moments. I took that as an apology.

The next rollocking was different, and I can't even remember what it was over - how bad is that? Again, saying nothing I took it until the hands got waved in the air and I was told to get out. "Just get out. Get out of my sight." So I did. I was impressed that he'd removed me from the situation (because he couldn't leave) before he got really, really cross, and he managed this crossness, calming down as soon as he'd heated up. It turned out to be another thing neither of us were responsible for.

I was worried last night about when his friend went home. If that's how awful he'd been infront of someone, imagine what he'd be like without an audience. I couldn't have been more wrong - seriously. Reading between the lines, it turned out that when I was getting shouted at it wasn't me he was mad with, but he couldn't shout and rant at his friend, so I got it double barrels. It got it out of his system, and "normality" resumed.

The two of us sat in the kitchen, stoor as far as the eye could see, on our little bar stools trying to work out how we would rectify the measurement that I didn't make and get us back on track. We did, and we did it between us with no shouting or arguing or huffs, snuffs or tears. It was lovely. We then, both of us, set to work to sort it out, and a couple of hours later we had done it, and it looks lovely, and we both worked together to do it. Normally, in the past, hubby and I couldn't work together, but since starting to bite my tongue and just slowing the pace down, and even saying to him once in a while "you need to slow down, when you speed up that's when you get confused, you spit your dummy out and it all goes wrong", and he listens to that. We'll have a cup of coffee and sit and think about things, even if the same thing is said over and over we're slowing the pace down - he just doesn't realise that's what I'm doing, but it's working at the moment.

So today is extractor fan day. I'm taking deep breaths, and I shall remain calm for the duration (hopefully), and by the end of the day we'll only have the bit under the window sill to do. The light at the end of the tunnel doesn't feel like an oncoming steam train "cue"uite so much ;o)