We’re getting soffit and fascia installed on the house, which, by the way, is a completely boring way to spend a lot of money, anyway I’m collecting quotes and called this cute little company based in my hippie city and two women came to do my quote. This will surely make me sound like 1950s Betty Housewife, but I never see women in construction and they were so fun to talk to, it made me want to run away and learn how to build things, as opposed to this career in fundraising that I’m already secretly kind of sick of. I mean, raising money for worthy causes is very noble and can be rewarding, but at the end of the day all I have is a federal report, and wouldn’t it be neater to have something more tangible, like a house?
This is the house on Offer Day. Remember when John had a beard? Goodness sakes. Anyway, I promise the cottage no longer looks sad and run down – you’ll remember that we stained the porch and I painted the lattice work, the bushes have been fertilized abundantly and we got a real bench. Plus, simply living in it has given the house a bit of life, as when we bought it had been empty for months. And SOON! there will be more things to show off, as I have a couple of exterior projects in the works but I favor secrets and surprises, don’t you?
ANYWAY, I had a point. Kind of. Have you discovered yet that the blog is just a bit of Katie-Rambles and pictures of the dog? Construction women – reminded me of a funny story, although now I’m not sure why. Regardless: last Sunday John and I cycled to church, without any idea that daylights savings time occurred, meaning we confusedly participated in the last hymn and benediction until a sweet little old lady chuckled and told us that we missed the time change. Well, it’s a bit awkward to catch only 3.5 minutes of a church service and we weren’t ready to rush out – we were the only people who cycled that day so putting on our helmets and adjusting our bags would surely call attention to us again and I wanted to hide our mistake from the most of the congregation, so we lingered a bit in the sanctuary. Since we’re still new, everyone and their cousin comes over to introduce themselves (I love it) and they all assume that I’m a student, surely because I’m so youthful and beautiful (RIGHT?). Anyway, my response is always, “Oh no, but my husband is in grad school, so we relocated recently.” I usually don’t feel like explaining what I do (because, shh, don’t tell, this makes me look a bit horrid, but once people know you’re a grant writer you’re the most in-demand volunteer and it’s awkward to say, eeee sorry, no thanks), and by this time they’ve asked John what he’s doing and he’s telling them about the wonders of Finnegans Wake or something and our audience is trying to escape, and the problem is solved.
Well, on Sunday we went through the same set of questions but the church lady started with John, and assumed, naturally, that I too was a student and was rewarded with my reply: “Oh no, just his wife.” Well, poor church lady thought she had offended me, and went into a tangent about the honors of being a housewife, to which I surely agree, despite not actually being one. The conversation quickly wizzed past the point where I could politely inform her that, Oh, no, you misunderstood, and plus, even if I did do that, I ran the risk of offending her as clearly she had been a very good housewife. This meant that I just kind of nodded along to her qualifications about the stresses of home-keeping and baby-raising until it was time for her to go, after which John gave me one of those glances where he raises both eyebrows and whispered, “You shouldn’t lie in church, house-wifey” and then I felt quite bad.
10 points to you, dear reader, for reading the entire post!