My sister took offense to Saturday’s blog where I said I came from a one bedroom shack on the lake.  Quite frankly I didn’t even know that she read the blog, but I digress.  So I get a text yesterday morning that says, “We lived in a f*#*#%g shack?”  Ooops.  I had to call her because I simply couldn’t text it all.

To clarify, it wasn’t REALLY a shack; it was a three-season cottage on Coventry Lake that our father  converted to an all season cottage.  Eventually a dormer was added so the two bedroom cottage became a four bedroom house.  But it was a very small house (I drove by it last year and I couldn’t believe how really small it was!)  The house had no basement, just a crawl space underneath for the pipes, plumbing and electrical, or whatever else they stick under those things.  There were always spiders in the house and one of my sisters and I actually got blood poisoning from a spider bite.

The front porch which was enclosed was converted into a living room and there were two bedrooms downstairs.  When we first moved in the three girls were in the back bedroom, which was the slightly larger of the two rooms.  The front bedroom was my parent’s room and you had to go through their room to get to ours.   After the dormer got added, the two younger girls went upstairs and our parents moved into the larger bedroom, while I got the front room.  I can still remember the way the sun would shine so brightly into that room first thing in the morning on a sweet summer’s day.  At some point, I went upstairs but then we moved to a different house and our uncle bought the “baby” house as we referred to it then.

The cottage wasn’t directly on the lake, but the lake was just down the street and we spent many a summer’s day down there, swimming like we were fish.  To be truthful, I don’t have many fond memories of that house or that time period, maybe that is why I refer to the house as a shack but just to clarify for my sister’s sake, it was not a shack, it was a cottage, however I still think my husband would be happy in a one bedroom shack on a lake.

A few years ago during a conversation where I was pondering my wish list my husband asked me why I am never happy with what I have.  It isn’t that I’m not happy with what I have, but I always think there must be something better.  I think it is a drive within myself to be a better person, to have a nicer car, a nicer house etc. Personally, I don’t feel it’s wrong to want to better yourself and your lifestyle if you have the desire and means to make it happen.

Today I went outside and found my husband drilling a hook into the underside of my deck.  “What are you doing”, I asked. 

“I’m putting up a hook” he said. 

“Why” I asked. 

“It’s a man thing” was his reply.

It made me mad because I feel like no matter how hard I try, the outside of the house does not look like it belongs in this neighborhood.  Most of the houses around me don’t have the stuff cluttering in front of their garages like ours does.  I went in the house and stewed about it while I was preparing dinner, actually what I thought was “you can take the boy out of the ghetto, but you can’t take the ghetto out of the boy.” 

Granted we didn’t really live in the ghetto, but our house always had junk around it and it discourages me that we have moved to a nicer neighborhood, but I still can’t get him to understand (after 20 years of marriage) that I want my house and my yard to look nice.

Well he comes back inside and I have to know, so I ask him, “so what’s the hook about?”  Now I have to give the guy props for his because he turns it around so that its my fault that we have a hook in the house. 

He says, “well you know how you don’t like the trailer lying around open, well I put the winch on the house and use the winch to pull the trailer up so I can fold it.”  Seriously? It’s bad enough he has to have that stupid little trailer that sits in front of my garage, but now I need a hook in the house so the damn thing folds up!  I think I married a Neanderthal.

Sometimes I seriously wonder about our compatibility, I mean I want a nice house, nice car, nice clothes.  He’d be happy in a one bedroom shack on a lake.  Wait a minute…that’s where I grew up, maybe that’s why I want something better?