Years ago when HGTV was newly on the boob tube, my former wife and I would watch it to see all kinds of do-it-yourself projects.  

Seeing the transformations done in a 30-minute time frame excited my ex-wife to such rapturous glee that soon we, too, embarked on such things as “Landscaping and Topiary in an afternoon” and “Backyard Pool in one weekend” style projects.

At first Ol’ Dutch was excited to try new things and seeing her enthusiasm motivated me even faster to the lumber yard for supplies.

About two projects into our new-found hobby I found out that there are some people who are just unable to work under another’s close supervision and criticism. This calm and collected woman I had married became a tyrant as soon as the toolbox was cracked open and I chafed under the hand of the Pharaoh as I slaved in the mud pits of Goshen.

This led to grumbling and complaining to everyone within earshot which, turns out was only God Himself.

Soon the bondage became unbearable and we had a severe parting of the ways. And, Ol’ Dutch finally found himself free to pursue said projects on his own, which is probably what she planned all along.

You would think that long stretches of cohabitation would somehow solidify our being able to work on things together and in fact some couples do achieve that. But, not us. We found out that our strength in any project was working apart and in that found success.

As my son grew up into his teen years he threatened many a time to break her pointing index finger as she would just point as what she wanted changed or done.

It is kind of strange that Miss Trixie and I met over a first class do-it-yourself-project when she came to town to visit her folks. Our local church needed free help tiling the floor and I was volunteered and she felt sorry for me.

But like the women who fish or hunt or do other things their man is interested in until they catch them, her interests in hard labor has waned considerably since I got my farm.

Which is okay with me, actually, because the only way she’ll be part of a project is as foreman or supervisor and she is too hard to work for.

I do not mind suggestions about how to do certain things but having a vast knowledge of how to build myself, being questioned on every aspect of a project gets old fast and her researching it on Google drives me to distraction.

Men do not want nor need directions or instructions as that is for sissies and we prefer to stumble our way across the landscape instead.
It's a wonder we ever found our way west back in the pioneer days. Some pretty great discoveries were made when people got off the beaten track and stumbled across treasures.

I read an account of a mountain man who was asked once if he ever got lost to which he replied, “No but I was turned around for three weeks one time.” He went on to say he always knew St. Louis was east and I guess that was comfort enough for him to know.

A recent boat trip solidified my position on separate activities as Miss Trixie, not fishing this time, became bored and ran her mouth about everything from the boat motor “blurping” to seats being broken to trying to help our friends have a good time.

Our strength must come from our differences as she marches to the beat of the left while I find the road right to always be the best choice. Yet somehow we are still together. And most importantly, my stoic and calm demeanor probably is the key to this success.  

Kevin Kirkpatrick and his Yorkie, Cooper, fish, hunt, ATV or hike daily. His email is [email protected]. Additional news can be found at www.troutrepublic.com or on Twitter at TroutRepublic.