Moments after I attached a section of freshly-painted step ladder to the side fence my wife stepped onto the back deck.
She looked at the ladder... silently. I watched her eyes scan the ladder from one end to the other as she carefully appraised the shade of blue paint I’d applied the day before under dark grey skies filled with bullets of hail. (I barely escaped alive from the storm).
“How do you like the colour?” I asked.
1, 2, 3.
“It’s fine,” she said.
1, 2, 3.
“I knew you’d like it,” I said.
“Maybe before you do your shopping, you can help me take the second section off the fence,” I said.
And, she did. All’s right in the world.
***
Please click here to read ‘The age of living dangerously PT 1’
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