It was three years, Dec. 13,

2000, since we moved into our house and began to turn it into a home.

One of the first efforts to

start adding finishing touches once all the furniture was in place came

with my hanging of the window shades. I believe I told you about that,

how empowered I felt holding a drill and doing tool things all by myself.

How Daniel gasped when he came home that day. Then how he walked around

and inspected the work of my unversed hands and patted me on the shoulder

(actually, I think he hugged me). He was so proud, he said.

His stroking endured. He has

praised all my indoor and outdoor efforts to do some of the chores he

has traditionally shouldered over the years. Why, after I rake up a pile

of straw, or pull weeds along beside him, you'd think I had gone to the

moon to get him a glass of iced tea. In the past, my efforts to help him

with "his" chores were pretty much limited to keeping him supplied

with iced tea and constantly commenting, praising, appreciating, and stroking

until he felt like all the sweat and exertion was more than worth his

efforts as he sought to please me.

We had a good system. Little

was I to know I would blow the whole program with the hanging of the shades.

I didn't have a clue as Daniel praised me so profusely on that cold January

day that I was being had!

Now, the real kicker? I just

realized it. Today. Jan. 26, 2001. Three years later. Finally. I realize

I got had! You would think, with him giving me a gift of my "own

tool set" just this past Christmas, that I would have seen the light.

(By the way every woman should have one! It even has a glue gun in it

and everything else I need to continue to show my ignorance.)

You see, I took down the window

shade on the west window of my bedroom this morning to tighten that little

flat piece of metal that sticks and if it gets loose the shade won't hold

properly when I am letting it back up. That's when I saw it.

For 36 long months now my shades

have been hanging backwards. He knew it. I KNOW he knew it. Do you suppose

he was patronizing me that day with all his "atta girls," or

did he just see a good thing coming and respond so as to encourage continued

growth?

I will admit that I have fretted

times over the fact that the shades don't (didn't for three years) hug

the window. Like a few weeks ago, Elise was spending the night with me.

I had made the mistake of letting her fall asleep around six p.m. and

allowing her to sleep for two hours. At 1 a.m. her 2-year-old body and

mind and heart was still going strong. When her babbling and pleading

for more stories stopped around two in the morning I collapsed while reassuring

myself we could sleep late "in the morning," which was actually

already upon us. Really, I meant we just would not have to get up at dawn.

Wrong. The shades, as they

have hung all these three years, have stood out from the window just enough

to let in this fine ray of sunlight every morning to remind you the roosters

are now up and crowing somewhere.

She saw that ray. It wasn't

even 6 a.m. and she saw it. "Time to get up, Grangan!" Four

hours and she was good as new! Ah, youth. ...

Now, today I am recalling the

blissful ignorance of my own youth. Was learning to use Daniel's tools

a good move? I recall the time I had to change some kind of belt on the

car while he lay on the floor with his back in spasm. Back and forth I

went from the incapacitated car parked in the driveway to the incapacitated

man lying on the living room floor. He talked me through it. Step by step.

I felt really tough, but I had the good sense not to pursue such knowledge.

I don't know what happened

to me the year we went country again, but I've decided that it was a good

year. I'm just going to turn all my window shades around now and keep

getting acquainted with all the tools in my new tool box as I continue

with the never-ending "finishing touches."

My husband is a wise man. He

may be well on his way to learning that quite often silence truly is golden

and a hug says it all! I think I'll keep quiet, too, and just give him

a hug this afternoon in silent appreciation for letting our window shades

hang backwards for three years.