It’s a mystery, for sure. Our kitchen/downstairs remodeling fun continues and we’re making…err, I should say our carpenter, plumber, designer, electrician friends…are making good progress. Next week we might see an installation of countertops. Woohoo!
Meanwhile, we’ve been roughing it with a makeshift kitchenette in our old laundry room and the hubster’s office became the landing zone for kitchen equipment, and all sorts of stuff, especially the big bulky items like pots and pans that we didn’t want to lug down to the basement.
Housekeeping while under construction has been spotty. I’m trying to keep my ‘zones’ – my workspace and our bedroom and bathrooms shipshape, but the amount of dust and grime generated, on the daily, has been significant. If I were inclined toward meteorology (and I’m not), I bet we could’ve measured the ‘dustfall’ in ways similar to snowfall. No, not in inches, per se, but definitely in the ‘dusting’ (wink!) and ‘accumulation’ categories.
The image I’ve snipped in above? It’s from the hubs’ office. A few times…LOL…lie…I’ve asked if he might dust off the grime on the credenza behind his desk. I mean, it can’t be a good thing to inhale all of that, right? He dismisses me and I know I should just ignore him/it, or give in and dust his office, but I haven’t done either.
I can’t avoid walking through his space altogether because my parents’ urns and that of our sweet little pupster, Sadie, sit behind a glass cabinet in hubs’ office. It seemed like a secure place for them (along with the pots and pans?) during construction and every morning I walk in to greet them, per Lisa (my disabled sister’s request) to say good morning. Every morning. When Lisa calls each evening at 6pm, inevitably she asks if I remembered to “Say hello to mom, dad and Sadie” that morning. You get the picture. I don’t mind, so as the coffee’s brewing, with one eye open, the greeting is part of my routine.
This morning? Even in the dim light at 5:30 a.m., I detected a little graffiti on the credenza. I stooped down to take a look and then turned on a light because I figured I was imagining what I saw. Nope. Right there, clear as could be, sat a silly smile…the kind you see on the rear window of a car in desperate need of a bath. What did I do? I smiled back, of course and carried on, saying hello to the parents and the pup.
When the hubster rolled downstairs, I thanked him for the smile, asking him if it was a precursor to actually dusting. A good omen, perhaps? He stared at me. Not just the ‘it’s too early, don’t ask me to respond yet’ stare but the blankest of blank looks. So, we played show and tell as I ushered him into his office, pointing to the smiley face. No reaction. He figured I did it – as a tease to torment him, smiley face style and shame him into cleaning.
I know when he’s joking around and when he’s not. He didn’t do it. And honestly, it’s not his brand of humor. So…the plot thickens. Not me, not the hubs. Maybe one of our remodeling friends? I could inquire, but then I’m literally pointing out the schlocky housekeeping. You know where my mind is going. The urns. Mom and dad…Sue and Sonny…plotting some hijinks? Sending a message that their current view is less than desirable and a little too dust-borne?
While I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation and one that doesn’t involve anything too paranormal, I’m not gonna investigate further. Even though parts of the house are a biohazard right now, I’m digging the unexplained smirk. It’ll be gone soon as we’re shuffling stuff around but for now…I’m all smiles.
Vicki 😉
Victoria Ponders 
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