Saturday morning started with me waking up on the couch at 4AM. Sitting up on the couch, huddled in a ball, cold, sleeping. We attended two holiday parties the night before, missed dinner at both, and suffered accordingly. I apparently tried to stay awake with Michael after we came home, only to fall asleep still sitting up. He claims he attempted to wake me. I only ask that the next time he at least tip me over and cover me with a blanket before deserting me.
My initial reaction upon awaking was fear. Fear that I had let Iona outside, gotten cold, came back to sit on the couch and wait for her, and then fell asleep. I was certain that she was alone outside and miserable. (This has NEVER happened, by the way.) In reality she was upstairs in our bed and sleeping on my side, on my pillow. She was a happy warm Puppy Person. I was not.
At 8AM Michael went to the House to meet the electrician. I attempted to feel better. Then I went to the House to meet the strange and annoying man that wanted to buy our sink. He was lost and called me five times trying to find his way. While I attempted to help, our conversations went something like this:
Man: I am lost. My directions took me straight into downtown. Do you know where South street is?
Me: Sort of. What intersection are you on? Do you see a house number? I will use my BB and get you directions.
Man: South street going West. Now I am on Salisbury going North! Where am I?
Me: Can you give me a house number? A building number?
Man: Ma’am I am in front of the Generic, Nondescript building on MLK. Do you know where that is? I will make a U-turn.
Me: What? Stop driving. House number? Building number?
This went on for awhile and no he NEVER gave me a number. He did manage to get to the House eventually. This after a few more wrong turns and the need to put down the phone while he u-turned again, thereby missing my directions. Again. Upon arrival he spent the next 20 minutes walking around and telling me what to do. “You should replace this floorboard”, “You should put an outlet here”, “You should leave your ceilings high”, “You should repair the large gaping hole in your plaster”. You sir, should stop talking and get the hell out of my House. I did not ask for your opinion, I am tired and cranky, and I do not value your inane insight. You may be old enough to be my father, but mine raised me well enough to not be a complete moron. The annoying man did not buy the sink, for the record.
Back to the House again, and again, and then again to meet a man that was interested in buying our gas stove. Since uncovering the fireplaces, we don’t have a logical place to put the stove any longer. That and we already have two storage containers full of things that will never fit in this House. Turns out that they were a delightful couple that are also transplants and are also renovating a historic home. They were a joy to talk with and I wish us all well in our quests to restore these damn homes. In the meantime, we still have a sink to sell.