Good News/Bad News/…Really Bad News

Occasionally, there are periods of a month or more when I don’t get to go my house in the country.  Sometimes when that happens, I’m a little disquieted by a vague, non-specific feeling that someone may be using the house in my absence.  A door open here, something not quite in its place there; maybe a strand of hair in the bathroom sink that doesn’t seem to match either mine or Yduj’s. Things like that.

Ordinarily, I don’t dwell on the possibility that the house is being shared with strangers.  I assume that I just don’t remember exactly how it had been left and don’t seriously  consider that any thing untoward has taken place. (The hair business I just put out of my head.)  But last weekend when I went there, it was an entirely different story.

It had probably been four or five weeks since I had last been at the house.  Nothing looked awry.  That is until I looked in on a half-bathroom which I hardly ever use.  To you, it would look as if there was nothing wrong.  But what I saw really freaked me out.  There is a toilet paper holder in the bathroom that has two parts–one piece that attaches to the wall and a second one that screws onto the part coming out of the wall.  That second piece has a habit of loosening over time and falling off.  So every year or so, I have to re-attach it.  When I looked in at the bathroom it was all together as it ought to be.

Possibly them?

Possibly them?

The problem is (and this is a big problem), it had been in separate parts the last time I had been to the house.  I know this because it’s a royal pain in the ass to re-attach the damn thing.   I was aware it was “broken” and had been purposefully putting off fixing it. And with good reason.  The repair requires me lying on the tile floor with my head nearly in the toilet bowl and working with a very tiny screwdriver that I always have to hunt for in order to tighten a set screw that keeps the bloody thing in place.  The important elements here are: “lying on the tile floor ” and “always have to hunt for”.  These are things I’d certainly remember.  That is, I’d remember them unless I’m even further gone than I think I am.

Obviously, this episode is quite disconcerting. On the one hand, it’s terrific that I don’t have to mess around with that stupid toilet paper holder.  But that means that either I have an intruder or I’m not to be trusted going out alone anymore without a note pinned to my sleeve explaining where to return me when I’m found.

As I think about it, of the possible alternative explanations available for this situation, the presence of an interloper may not be so bad after all.  Really, all I  have on my hands is merely the opposite of a vandal, whatever the word for that is.  Someone breaking and entering and fixing. Which is soooo much better than having to entertain the notion that when I’m fighting with Yduj about something we remember differently, that she’s right.

So, putting all my eggs in the intruder basket, I’ve decided that I should take advantage of the situation and I’ve left the following note on my kitchen counter.

Please take care of the following:

The radiator in my bathroom needs painting ( flat white, please).

Install a rheostat to control the fan spin of the living room fan.

The upstairs is starting to show some wear;  if it’s not too big of a deal, I’d love to see the walls repainted (eggshell finish).

And…enjoy your stay.


4 Responses to “Good News/Bad News/…Really Bad News”

  1. stephaniecavanaughs Says:

    Please direct him/her to my house when him/her is done. I have many projects. Wondering about skills with electric…

    • iron(ic)man triathlon Says:

      I’ll do that. This is kind of like ‘angies list’; just without angie….or a list. otherwise, exactly the same.

  2. Bob Says:

    Can you please fill the fridge up… for next time?

  3. iron(ic)man triathlon Says:

    Fine..are you vegetarian or vegan or gluten-free or kosher or paleo or lactose intolerant or allergic to nuts? Better yet, come on Yom Kippur when you’re fasting.

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