Painting is our latest skill. Practiced daily, one finds that the walls take on a fresh look and forever alters that way you wake up in the morning. Anyone desiring a visit from us will have to pry us loose from the house like a barnacle from his rock. It's not going to be easy.
The cable guys came over last week at their appointed time and after rummaging around with furrowed brows for an hour, announced that our cable lines--the whole bunck of them--had been cut and they were stumped. Not knowing where the other possible lines could be, we got our real estate agent on the line (yes, ours is kindly accomodating) who got to the former owners who were able to tell us why, look right under the staircase. Why didn't I think of that?
Maybe next week we'll be writing from our own desk. The necessity of internet pushes us not further away from personal contact with our neighbours, but quite the contrary, has brought us into more visiting and testing of friendly boundaries than ever.
1 comment:
any chance of seeing the master's handiwork in pictures?
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