Dust clouds on the oasis

I found the event of this weekend so typical that I just have to mention it for the benefit of all old house owners the world over. Here's what was discussed after a very messy afternoon of digging old concrete out of the stone wall joints in the living room:

- Uh, gee honey there's an awful alot of dust in here. I'm really worried about the baby inhaling all of this (runs one of her fingers across television screen and leaves clear black path)

- You wanted an old house. (feeling smug because he just trumped her with his favorite 'you made your bed...' statement)

- Okay, okay but I'm just complaining a little. I can do that right? I mean I have a right to complain, right? (insert mental "arrrrgggh" here)

- Well, I'm going to take care of it mumble mumble mumble mumble FAN mumble BLOWING mumble. Tomorrow, you'll take baby S for a stroll and mumble mumble mumble I'll take care of it.

- Okay, wow honey thanks. (impressed with his take charge attitude)

- Anytime.


It wasn't really a clear conversation. More or less like an old radio transmission. I didn't understand everything. A common phenomenon between the male and female species. So, imagine my surprise when baby S and I come back from the stroll and there is a veritable dust storm swirling in the living room. Seb is blowing a 'reverse' vaccuum thingy at all of the dusty stone and beams. The cloud is vaguely churning towards our huge, old industrial fan so that it all can eventually fly out the windows and out of our lives forever, to be followed by new replacement dust of course. I question it all but say nothing. I gasp for air. He's left the stereo, computer, digital camera, PDF, speakers and (insert blank for items costing more than 300 dollars and being highly sensitive to dust HERE) and all of the baby's toy out in the dust!

We're changing the name of this house: "Mohave Haven," "Death Valley Chalet," "Sahara by the Lake"... something more fitting.

Bejesus! The man has a degree in engineering.