Ahoy, gentle readers! Been too long since last we chatted, but Yours-Ever-Faithfully has been busy…doing housework! Yes, you read that right – housework! Has it come to this? you ask. Verily, it has.
As you know, a week and a half ago, the burly plumbers left our domicile, and although we were soooo pleased to have them come and do the much needed repairs, we were even more pleased to see them depart. Only, they left behind a strong reminder of their work – dust! The basement was covered in it. I could feel it on every surface I touched, and I could taste it whenever anything was disturbed. And while I didn’t suffer a major allergy attack, the little beggars were starting to trouble me. I refrained from doing my workout, (all my equipment is in the basement) because I was actually afraid to take a deep breath.
“Paw,” I said, “it’s time.”
“Right you are there, Missus.” He nodded his head and kept nodding as he asked, “Time for what exactly?”
“Time to clean the basement.”
“Right you are. So I imagine you’d like to do that sometime soon?”
“Sometime now.”
“Right you are.”
“But I’m not going down there without a dust mask with a fresh filter in it. So if you wouldn’t mind scurrying off to Canadian Tire and purchasing same, I’d appreciate it.”
“Be delighted!” he replied, and scurry off he did.
Now, I sent him out for filters only. We already have dust masks that would have worked fine, just the filters were old and needed replacing. But I should have known sending a man to Canadian Tire is like sending me to Dollarama – shopping lists become irrelevant as soon as we step through the door.
“That’s a big box you got there, Mister,” I said when he returned. “A mighty big box.”
“Right you are, Missus. You won’t believe what I bought ya.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Have a look-see.” And he held the box out to me.
I pulled the box out of the bag and tears sprang to my eyes. I exclaimed, “Oh Paw! Is it true? After twenty-four years of married bliss, did you actually go and buy me…A RESPIRATOR???!!!”
He beamed.
“Well, I know how the dust gets to you, and I know how sometimes paint fumes do the same. So here’s something that’ll help with both. And it was on sale for half-price, don’tcha know? Well, g’ahead, g’ahead, try it on, Missus!”
That took some doing, but when we finally got me strapped in I bore a strong resemblance to Robocop, and sounded not unlike Darth Vader.
“Luke,” I intoned, “I’m your fathaaah!”
The Mister giggled.
“We should get that movie out again,” he suggested.
“Yeah, after we clean the basement.”
Then off we trudged downstairs to get the basement next to godliness. My new mask was so effective I could not detect any smells at all – not the even the soap, which was Murphy’s and has a strong citronella smell. But I didn’t smell nothin’!
“That being the case,” The Mister said, looking out of the corner of his eye, “then perhaps this would be the best time to…let one go, as they say?”
“Don’t you even think about it!” I countered. “There isn’t any respirator invented that could protect me from those noxious fumes!”
The basement is almost completely restored. I still need to wash off my weights and the shelf where I keep some plants, and then Boom! Done! The other project we’re working on is restoring our poor wounded front lawn.
More on that next time.
