The Wife He Never Had
While we were at Fripp, our neighbor Sam (Mary Alice) house-sat for us. I've known Sam for 13 years, seeing as how I lived in another house on this same street when I was married before (a future blog).
Sam is a jane-of-all-trades and makes her living as a pet-sitter, cleaning lady, painter, construction worker, landscaper, and soothsayer. I used to refer to her house as "the commune" because she lived with all her exes: her ex-husband, his mother, his sister, and the sister's husband. The ex-husband eventually married again and moved out, and his sister's husband died year before last. Now it's just the three women, so it doesn't qualify as a commune, unless you count the five cats and the hedgehog.
Because she told me, I know she's in her fifties, but she's one of those people you can't pin an age on. From my front door, if you see her in her own yard, she looks like a girl, with her long white braid and cut-off painter's pants. She loves animals and people equally, she is honest and loyal, and she can clean like nobody's business (She's OCD, hence the scrubbing involves such implements as toothbrushes, Q-tips, and popsicle sticks).
If it sounds like I have a crush on Sam, you should have heard the rest of my clan last night upon our arrival home. It was like Christmas, only instead of, "Look at the skates Santa brought me," it was all: "Did you see the floor in the pantry?!" and "She got the egg yolk off the wall!" and "Hey, I didn't know that grout was white!"
They dragged me from room to room, showing me the spotlessness. Biggy kept saying, "I can't believe she's not married. She should be someone's wife." This morning, gazing out the sparkling living room windows, he actually confessed, "I'm seeing Sam in a whole new light."
I've got news for him; she can also caulk a tub and shingle a roof. She's an artist (pastels and watercolors) and pianist too.
He'll have to fight me for her.