Family

Vino and Vacuum Violence

In my kitchen I have two utensil drawers. The shallow top one holds the essentials like the coffee scoop, kitchen shears, peeler and cork puller. A fitted white plastic drawer insert holds them all straight and orderly.  This drawer and its contents get a lot of use. Dust, coffee grounds, and other miscellaneous minuscule crumbs tend to congregate along the bottom and edge of the inserts.

The much deeper bottom holds everything else that I don’t mind digging to find, such as cookie cutters, measuring cups and the seldom used turkey baster.  It is a tangle of metal, plastic, string and several sharp edges and pointy things. I am always careful when searching in there.

In our home, we have two places that we claim to be our own.  Mine is the kitchen, his is the garage. Both are orderly. Well, one is immaculate and in perfect order, the other is a hodgepodge of a semi semblance of sanity.  Yes, if you know us, the most organized is the garage. You can open any drawer and find what you need and it is so clean you can sit without getting saw dust on your clothes. The kitchen is another story. Yes, it is clean and no one has yet to contract a food borne illness from it.  But, if you are looking for something…it is best to ask me where it is.

I have a paying full time job, a paying part time job, a non-money generating but very rewarding volunteer job, a time consuming and fun hobby along with four pets and other household chores to do. You can probably understand why the unwelcome crumb content of the utensil drawer never comes to mind.

Last week, I opened the front door from a 10 hour day trip and Lonnie was standing tall and smiling largely in the kitchen. He was facing the kitchen island where the drawers are located. “Come here,” he said and pointed to the floor next to where he was standing. I put down my purse, parked my computer bag and obliged.

“What’s up?” I asked as I got up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

He threw open the top drawer.  “Do you notice anything?” He said with his I am about to impress you smile.

“What?” I ask, while I perused the smudged screen of my Blackberry. I peered over the phone and saw the same implements of my cooking passion still in place. “What?” I repeated.

“Look!” he said excitedly pointing at the coffee scoop, “there are no coffee grounds in the bottom of this drawer!”

“Really,” I questioned. “Don’t tell me…”

“I vacuumed the inside of the drawer…the tray is so clean.”

He was so pleased with himself and I am now seriously worried. “Hey, what did I tell you about vacuuming the inside of things?” I said. “It’s time for you to find a job!” I motioned him to sit with me in the front room, only to rebuffed by his determination to continue vacuuming.

“Not now,” he said as he grabbed the green fabric encased hose. “Got to finish vacuuming.” And down the hall he went pushing the motorized head back and forth.

Oh well, the wayward Golden Retriever colored dust bunnies were gathering into a large herd, so I retreated into my office and shut the door.  And the whirling sucking sound of the vacuum continued down the hall and into the bedroom.

Later that night at 5pm we visited his sister’s house for dinner.  Their cousin was visiting from Washington and we were going to have an early dinner and nice visit. Well, the early dinner did not appear until 830pm and by then Cousin Roger, Sister Pam and I had polished off three bottles of red wine. Yikes I was suddenly seriously drunk! Hiccups and a spinning dining room accompanied my salmon and salad.  And, I had to get up early to give a presentation at work.

Anyway, a bottle of water, couple of aspirin and more aspirin and water during the night made it possible for the early rise and presentation. However, by 2pm I was dragging. I lay down on the bed, Chessie snuggled up close and I closed my eyes to her purring. Then just as I was entering nap land, the roar of the garage vacuum started up. God, it is so loud in the bedroom and in my exhausted cabernet sauvignon laced brain. I was tempted to get up and ask him to stop…but you know what that answer would have been. So, I closed my eyes again with visions of sticking the nozzle up “where the sun don’t shine.” The visual helped me sink into a serene slumber although the sucking racket continued.

What to do?  Six months in and he has cleaned and repaired nearly everything. Did I tell you he not only sharpened my chef knives, but the neighbors too!  What a guy!

He is holding some final repair jobs to winter since they are inside jobs. But, then what?  He is golfing now and enjoying meeting up with old friends and cementing new ones. A talk is brewing…just this time no coffee grounds will be left unsucked in the utensil drawer.

Leave a Reply

Powered by: Wordpress