my hardworking husband (in the Florida shirt) taking a break with the carpenter
Things have been pretty hectic here in the mountains. The repairs to our cabin turned out to be a lot more extensive and time consuming than expected. We’ve had workers rebuilding a side deck and the back entrance, as well putting in a French drain to stop the flooding of our storage units.
Personally, I think it seems unpatriotic to put in foreign drain with our economy in such dire straits. But Bob assures me that there is nothing French about it, all the materials came from Lowe’s and it really is a domestic drain. Whatever. At any rate, I have not gotten as much smocking done as I had expected.
The little ready-to-smock Jon-Jon suit for Alastair is as done as it’s going to be until we get home. The smocking is finished but the suit awaits some decorative stitching on the shirt collar and cuffs as well as button replacement. I will probably remove the machine hem and finish it by hand.
I really thought I’d have one daygown smocked by now. Every day I fix lunch for the workers, something I have always done when work crews are underfoot. When our swimming pool was built, when the roof was replaced, when the pavers were laid, we’ve always provided lunch.
This time, the motivation is even greater. The people in this area, and probably throughout the mountains, seem to have an exceedingly high standard of honesty and hard work. Several years ago, we couldn’t find anyone to deliver firewood all the way up Seven Devils Mountain. Finally, Bob responded to yet another firewood ad and was told again that they don’t deliver up here.
To get in and out of the cabin, we have to "walk the plank" or hike down the steep slope to the steps to the front deck. I live on the edge and "plank" to the back to check their progress. My new knee handled it pretty well.
We had the whole family up for the week and we all love a fire. So Bob told the man that he would pay an extra $25 or $50 or “whatever it takes” to get firewood. The man drove from Boone, 20 miles away and then up to our cabin, unloaded the firewood and quietly asked for an extra $10 for the long distance delivery. Bob rounded up the cost of the firewood to include a nice tip and then handed the man $10 for delivery. He was happy and so were we.
About 15 minutes later the man was at the back door. Bob had given him a $100 bill instead of a $10. He seemed offended by our surprise that he would go to the trouble to return. “It just wouldn’t be right to keep it,” he stated simply. He left with a genuine $10 bill. Note: When we got home, Bob got new glasses.
The workmen who are here now are good Christian men who give their best effort to the job. My dear, handy hardworking husband works right along side of them. It’s a pleasure to cook for these men and a share their lunch hour. It makes me feel like a farm wife.
Tomorrow, I’m serving grilled Reuben sandwiches, fresh baby carrots and apple pie ala mode. And, of course, sweet tea. I’ll catch up on my smocking later.