Every so often, the man reminds me of the details of one of the key stories in Smith family lore, because I have apparently intentionally blocked off that memory. According to him, it goes like this: We were living in North Carolina, in the first house we ever bought, and I was at work at the library. I got a phone call, and the man asked, "Guess where I'm standing?" I don't think we had cell phones at the time, at least not more than one, so that limited the range of where he might be. "I'm in the doorway to our den!" "Um, we don't have a den." "We do now!" He had a few days off of work, and he and his circular saw had done a number on the wall between the dining room and the former garage that had already been converted (very badly) into a bonus room. By the time I got home, it was still mostly a gash in the drywall, with insulation hanging ragged around the edges. But the look of pride on his face was priceless, and he really didn't waste time fully opening up room for french doors, raising the floor to the same level as the dining room, correctly framing out what used to be the opening for the garage door (and had been poorly installed sliders when we bought the place), and putting in a window and built-in bookshelves. One month we had a junk room that was an uninsulated, unheated garage conversion, and the next we had a functional den and a utility room off the kitchen. We still don't talk much about the electrical wiring. (Because the conversation went something like this: "I'm going to go install this breaker at the box. If you hear a pop, don't investigate. Just go collect the life insurance.")
This man is something to behold when he is bored and has time on his hands. His mind never stops designing, some things ingenious, some things so goofy they wouldn't even work as junkyard art. When we lived in the high desert of California, we tried getting one of those large snapset pools. It was fun, but the thing would not hold heat from one day to the next, even when the air temperature was over 110 for days in a row. I came out one day to find yards of black hose snaking through the back yard, connected to the pool filter pump, as a slap-dash solar water heater. It didn't work all that well, but he got points for creativity (and deductions for style).
After spending so many months away, he doesn't have to go into the office for a couple weeks. The experiments have already begun. There is another water heater test site attached to my fireplace, and the grow light I had set up for the lemon tree has already changed twice. I've learned that it's best to stand back and be ready with a towel to sop up spilled liquids or to locate flying bits of hardware that skitter across the floor and hide. Perhaps one of these days, one of his experiments will lead to that invention that allows us to retire before we turn 50. Until then, I'll just let him go at it, and I'll focus on constructing dog beds with spare pillows and foam. (He and I are more alike than we admit...)
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