Some things I wish I hadn't seen...
There are a few neighbours and villagers who seem to be addicted to work. Yes, unless it's a Sunday, they are seen more often in their yard than anywhere else. Their homes are spic and span, nary a blade of grass out of place or a speck on any window. In a strange way I envy them but not enough to join their ranks.
By the bye, should you ever want to buy a house in a small village, make sure it's set back in a cul-de-sac or surrounded by tall trees. It'll save you lots of work.
Coming back from a walk the other morning, I stumbled on a sight that I wish I hadn't seen. There was an Eisenberger hanging out the window, equipped with what looked like professional window cleaning paraphernalia. Clearly it wasn't his first time!
Too late, even though my retinas were imprinted with the business of cleaning windows, I did a cheery wave, one that hopefully disguised my guilty dismay. When had I last cleaned our windows? Did I mention that he'd just come home from a long shift at work? Whatever happened to watching TV or reading a book after work?
The domestic bliss of cleaning windows is only done when absolutely necessary...such as when our view gets blurred. Once or twice the spirit of cleaning had infused me with a bout of passionate window cleaning only to be saddened, cross and disappointed a few hours later, when the streaks appeared prolifically making me wonder, why I had bothered in the first place.
Anyway, as I was almost home, this image of him cleaning the windows so prominently and expertly had my mind fired up. The minute I'd taken off my shoes and jacket, I accosted Bob without delay:
" Schatzi, your friend is cleaning his windows. I think he's just come home from work because he's wearing his safety pants. You know, we should also clean our windows after breakfast. "
Oh, I am so glad I married a man of common sense...
" If he wants to clean his windows, that's his problem. Ours are fine as they are. "