The Spice of Life -2
I have decided to write again. Hibernation over and back to
action. I begin as usual with my favorite topic “The Spice of My Life”. Yes,
you’ve guessed it. MDH and his regular habit of driving me nuts.
My husband is plumber, mason and electrician all rolled in
one. No, I have no problem with it at all. I gave up any effort to get someone
to fix leaky taps and broken tiles long back. He will not hear of it and insist
on doing it himself. I am secretly in awe of his interest in learning new
skills but we won’t tell him that right now. He will get all puffed up and try
his hand on yet another new venture.
“So what’s your problem”? you may ask. None at all if he
worked on his own. He needs an assistant and who else would be willing to dance
to his tune except me.
Let me explain…….
The condenser of the ceiling fan had to be replaced. Till
about a fortnight ago we didn’t need the fan. Now that summer’s here fans need
to run at full speed. He got the condenser from the store and set about
replacing it. The center table was brought in and positioned below the fan. A
stool was placed on top of it and MDH climbed over it. I was concerned about
his safety and to be able to hold the stool I asked him to give me a minute to
finish my cooking……………
"It won’t take more than a minute" was his response.
I switched off the gas and dutifully held the stool while constantly craning my neck to see what he was up to.
“Get me the screw driver”…
“Which one? You have screw drivers of four sizes”.
“The red one”.
“The long red or small red”?
“You’ve seen me at work all your life and yet you ask”….
A part of me – the wicked me - felt like leaving him right
there to get back to my cooking. But his safety was also a concern.
“Will you be safe while I fetch your tool box”?
I decided to get the entire thing to be able to hand him a
screw driver or spanner of his choice.
That done he next asks for a torch. I truly get bugged when
at the age of 76 he stands with his head a foot above the fan asking for one or
the other thing. I am in perpetual fear of his getting hurt.
A torch, a blade, a screw
driver or an adhesive tape – the list is long.
We then start quarreling like school children.
I am asked to flash the torch at an angle suitable to him.
“You are blocking the light” I say.
He has to get down and re-position the center table/stool
combo. He climbs up and I flash the torch again.
After 4 to 6 trials he gets frustrated and takes the torch
from me and holding the screw driver between his teeth flashes the torch
himself. Once the location of the old condenser is identified he returns the
torch to me and with proper instruction I manage to get the angle right.
Handing him the blade and taking it back…
The long screw driver once and the smaller one later…..
Constantly looking up is painful in the actual and
figurative sense…..
Worrying about his safety has my blood pressure soaring…….
Finally after half an hour the task that was meant to be
accomplished in a minute gets over and he climbs down beaming with satisfaction. I wonder if it wasn't easier to get an electrician to do it.
To top it he asks if lunch was ready and when I ask to be
given a couple of minutes...….
His response is-
“What were you doing all this while”?
“Dancing to your music” is my reply.
And I hope you agree that I was doing just that.
5 comments:
missed your posts.
I guess, now that you are retired MDH thinks you are chief assistant, secretary etc :-)
You are right about that. We wives may never actually retire.
The thought that I still have people reading me keeps me going.
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