The wife was running late. She had an appointment in town and the washing machine hadn’t yet finished its job. She looked at me and I nodded. I am a full service man of the house. My only question was where the clothespins were, she pointed, and out the door she went. I finished my coffee and then headed out to hang the wash on the line. We gave up on a clothes dryer long ago. I installed a rustic clothes line along the backyard fence back in 2009 and it has worked out well ever since.
So, I am hanging out laundry and I hear a plane approaching. This one was fairly low and crossing right over our property. Something you want to think twice about as this is a noted geese highway, and there was lots of honking going on as he approached. It was bright red, with a fancy V tail and I looked up and tracked it as it flew by. As I was watching the plane, it did a double take. Well, as close as a flying machine can do. The pilot must have looked down and mentally did a “what the…” The left wing dipped a bit and the engine slowed just a little and it drifted some toward my side of where he was going. I was imaging the pilot craning his head to confirm what he thought he just saw. A guy, hanging out laundry, on a clothes line, in January. Admittedly not something you see every day, but nothing that should cause you to drop out of the sky. After a he got an eye full the plane righted itself, the engine revved, and he got back on course and left me in peace. I am not real fond of nosy neighbors, especially ones that are flying a bit lower than they should, and act surprised that we are living our lives in redneck splendor.
I was still grumbling to myself as I finished my domestic chore. Some hot shot bird man doing a What the F, Yo over me helping out my wife. So to right my mood, I went in and busted the North kitchen wall, just so I could fix it. It needed to be done and as always, no plan survives contact with the enemy. The door frame to the upstairs was a full 1 1/2 inches thick at the bottom and less than 3/4 of an inch thick at top on the North wall side. My new insulated bead board wall is 1 5/16’s in depth and that was going to swallow the right side door frame and just generally be awkward. Since the wife was gone, I did what Mr Red Plane would probably never do. I ripped the side door frame right out, which caused the plaster in that area to shout “Everybody out of the pool!” and down comes the top corner. After 140 years not all the plaster is in loving contact with the stone wall. Let just say, there have been a few divorces over the long years. Whatever. It seems that when you do a job like this, you’re always getting in middle of some domestic issues that didn’t start out involving you, but, welcome the party, Pal.
By the time the wife got home, the mess was cleaned up and yes, it looked a bit different, but that’s nothing new. Tomorrow, we turn it up to 11 and start the long awaited, somewhat dreaded, jackhammering out a path for the propane line. Always save the best for last, which is what my dear old Dad loved to say, as he was taking out the belt of Justice.