Friday, April 13, 2012


Through the years, we've been able to make various home improvements. But whether it was closing in the back porch, adding attic access, reworking the kitchen, sanding the wood floors to their original hue, or, most recently, removing an old roof and putting on a metal one, there has always been a common thread: "She."

I'm home a great deal of the time (but never when the contractor wants me, it would seem), so I've been privy to conversations and discussions the workmen didn't think I was hearing. I've learned to tune out all but one word: "She", as in, "Is she home?" or "Where is she?"

Neither of these bode well for "she" or me. It's never to tell me that they're finishing early or it costs less. Never to say there was a free something included in the box they've just opened. No, hearing "she" is always trouble. As in...

The kitchen light fixture that was only half there. So I called the store where purchased. It was the last one. Discontinued. But, wait! They'd hunt and eventually another was found. Shipped for free at no charge. As well it should have been.

Or, the questions about my paint choice. (My walls, my choice.) Did I really want the electrical boxes to be seen when the pantry was open? (Yes, or the pantry would be so small as to be nonexistent.) What did I mean the kitchen cabinets were to go to the ceiling? (Just what I said. And yes, I know how to use a ladder.) Did I know the birds were rebuilding the nest the painters had already knocked down twice? (It's a 30 year old nest. Leave it be.)

The corollary to this is the call up the stairs to my study. It's not "Mrs. Sisk!" It's "Mrs. Si-isk." A singsong. Sort of like when the children would call. Not "Mother!" but "Mo-therrrr!"

Always trouble if it's sung.

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