Only a Doyle Handyman

When we were first married, Chris and I (okay Chris, Uncle Mike, Aunt Anne and I--giving credit where credit is due) "redid" an old house.  We painted every room, stripped and rehung wall paper, and Chris refinished the hardwood floors.  Now I know most people finish something like that and are energized and proud.  Chris turned to me and said, "Never again.  If we can't afford to have someone do it, it's not going to get done."  And so every time we move we search out doctors, hair stylists, and a handyman.  Ray is our Louisville handyman.

Several weeks ago we made a list and decided it was time to call Ray.  I called and left a message; no answer.  A few days later I called again and left a message; no return call.  I called a third time and left a message.  I couldn't understand why he wasn't calling us back.  He liked us I thought.  Of course that might have something to do with the fact that we double paid him since we didn't communicate on who would write the check--perhaps we should add a finance person and mediator  or communication specialist to our list of people to find when we move.  Anyway, he didn't call back and I decided that he was either dead (he's not young) and I was harassing a grieving family or he was going to have me arrested for stalking because he wasn't going to call back.  (I clearly wasn't working on home improvement projects so I had plenty of time to let my mind create.)  I was about to go on a search for a new handyman when surprise Ray called.

He was sorry he hadn't called back sooner, but his mother had died (I knew there had to be death somewhere in there) and he was named executor but he didn't know he was executor and then they had to clean out the house...15 minutes into the call I finally was able to break into the story and say, "Can you help us out?"  "Oh yeah," he replied obviously reconnecting with the idea that I was his client not his therapist. "I'll be over sometime next week."  I didn't press him for a specific time and date, when you're not handy you work your schedule around the handyman.  Plus, I was a tad bit afraid he would give me a 20 minute detailed list of what he would be doing.  If I think someone talks alot....well you know they do.

Ray finally came over to look at the projects.  Sure I can do those he told me AFTER he retold me the story of his mother's death complete with how he and his five siblings divided up the furniture.  I know exactly who got what and what they're doing with it, why they didn't choose other pieces and the house has been sold. He also told me about the kitchen redo he did for his wife.  "Took me 8 years, but I got it done."  He said, "I'll be back sometime next week."  Again I wasn't going to press, on top of that,  I was too busy praying these projects wouldn't take 8 years....

Thursday Ray showed up.  I was working from home.  I hadn't had a day off in awhile plus it was freaking cold and I had a roaring fire.  (I burned 28 pieces of wood that day--another weirdness about me, I count the wood I burn.  I definitely keep my therapist in business.)  I was working on a sermon listening to Gregorian advent chant in the back ground.  (It was in Latin)  I was trying to concentrate and Ray was talking and talking and talking.  (I know some of ya'll are so happy and just want to say,'Paybacks are hell')  Finally there was a pause and glorious silence.  And then Ray started singing!!!!  Rather he started chanting, PERFECTLY AND IN LATIN!!  He's scrapping my ceiling and chanting Gregorian chant.  I really didn't want him to talk anymore but I had to ask, "Ray, are you chanting?"  "Oh yeah," he responded, "I was in catholic seminary for 5 1/2 years but then I decided I'd rather drop out, become a painter and get married.  Now that's a story!"  I didn't get to hear that story--he had to go outside for the gutter project...I breathed a sigh of relief.

Four hours later Ray announced, "Well I'm about finished for today.  I'll have to come back tomorrow to put another layer on the ceiling." he told me and then continued to explain how he'd learned all these trades.  37 minutes later he left.  I was beginning to think he was moving in and I'd have to introduce the children to their new Uncle Ray.  Further he charges us by the hour; I wonder if I'm getting charged for entertainment as well...

Friday Ray called to say he was on his way.  I was heading home from the gym and told him I'd meet him there.  I arrived and Ray was already in the house.  "I went ahead and let the dogs out," Ray informed me as I walked into the house.  "I can't remember where you keep the treats."  (He really might be moving in....)  We stood in the middle of the living room as he detailed what he had done after he left my (our) house yesterday.  He pulled out his phone and began to show me pictures of his grandchildren--I tried to keep it straight--we might all become family.  He put his phone away and as he continued to talk he began to undue his belt and unzip his pants.  "WHOA!" I screamed turning my back to him.  He began to laugh, "Did you think I was taking my pants off?"  That's exactly what I thought and think.  He kept laughing as he said, "I am but I have shorts on underneath.Remember I went to seminary."  Seriously a warning would have been helpful PLUS you dropped out of seminary!!!  He finished the second layer and called me back into the living room.  Ray began to explain the next step as he started to redress.  Even knowing what's going on, I have to say it's a bit unnerving to talk to a man in your living room who is pulling up his pants and tucking in his shirt.....

"I'll be back tomorrow to put another coat on," he told me,  "I'm going home now to work on one of my computers.  I had to replace the hard drive last night.  I have seven computers.  I built my first computer 2 years ago.  If you aren't here, I'll just come on in."  I remained silent.  First I was amazed--this man also builds computers?  A Gregorian chanting, story telling, handyman, computer guru. Only a Doyle handyman.  Also, while it's wrong; I know it's wrong, so very wrong,  but I silently gave thanks for the early morning board meeting followed by a funeral and two basketball games. He may meet his match, Caroline will be here...

Society Hell

Anyone with teenagers knows having a gourmet family dinner before 9 pm with the WHOLE family together is a very rare occasion, so I take what I can when I can.  I love to cook and to set the table with themed china and linens, and I love having the whole family around the table without feeling rushed.  Yesterday I didn't have to work so I got to do some of that.  I prepared a semi elaborate salmon set the table with the leaf place mats and called the boys to dinner (at 7:30 I said I take what I can--SK is clearly not traveling from UVA for dinner and Caroline was at play practice.)

We sat down and began to eat and to have typical Doyle conversation (read conversation that borders on if not crosses over inappropriate and conversation that jumps faster than the Easter bunny)--Boss, "We stopped at the video store today so I could pick up William's new video game.  I do that for him so much they don't even card me anymore.  That's not the place I don't want to be carded."  My head whipped around--Boss, "Wait it's not what you think."  Before I could delve into that conversation, William, "Yeah there was this weird kid there...."  Chris interrupted, "What a weird kid at a video store?"  (Yes we do stereotype--but then our weird kids were there today too.)  William, "Us weird kids call this time of year, Broketober because all the new games come out."  Me, "Remember Christmas is coming up."  William,, "Yeah that's why I need you to find me jobs or give me some money"  Chris, "Boss can you pass me a piece of salmon?"  Boss reached across William and picked up a piece of salmon WITH HIS HANDS!!!!  "Boss!"  I shrieked.  "What?  I was trying to be polite and not interrupt the flow of the conversation by asking William to pass the platter."  He's so considerate.  "You're killing me or at least aging me quickly."  Boss, "Yeah, but I'll put you in a good home."  "I'd like to go to Merrilee please."  Boss, "That's not happening--that's too expensive."  Chris, "At least you get to go to a home; he told me he's just putting me out."  Boss, "Yeah, he'll figure something out--I'll make sure you have a place to live."  I didn't know whether to add--thanks for taking care of me but not your father or to be amazed they had clearly had  this conversation before--and both remembered it....

William got up and poured himself a glass of milk WITHOUT asking anyone else.  Boss already had water, but Shawn had nothing--something I'm sure he would eventually be thankful for.  As he sat back down he placed his glass to the left of his plate.  Me, "Sweetheart, the glass goes on the right side."  Boss, "This isn't the middle ages Mama.  Don't move it William."  Me, "I know it's  not the middle ages, but it's just the proper way to set a table.  Ya'll know that."  "Well," he continued, "Mine is in the middle of the place mat.  I like it there.  I'm pretty much I'm in the center and William leans left."  Seriously, he's bringing politics into this?!?!?  "Plus, the place mats aren't big and you don't want the glasses on the table."  Me attempting to bring this conversation back into some sort of normalcy, "Well it's still the proper way."  Boss, "Well I guess I'm going to society hell since mine is in the middle and I'm not moving it.  What about you William?"  William, "I guess I'm going two levels below society hell because mine is to the left."  Shawn was trying not to fall out of his chair laughing not completely certain whether I was going to lose it.  I decided to move on...

"I'll clean up Chris if you'll go get the poster board and bag of candy for Caroline."  Chris took that deal.  Boss began writing a paper as I was cleaning up. "Hey Mama, what's another name for Jesus?" I started giving him possibilities.  "No Mama, I need one that uses lots of words--I've got to get to 1000 words tonight."  So, I continued only to be interrupted again, "What do you know?   I'll figure it out."  Clearly I don't know how to teach table manners....

Chris got home and Boss asked, "What kind of candy did you get?"  Chris, "Snickers."   Boss, "Snickers?  Are you kidding me?  No one likes snickers and besides we go to private school where everyone has those rich people peanut allergies.  You should have bought reeces."  Caroline walked in at that point which saved me from trying to deal with ANY of Boss' reasoning.  Caroline, "What you got snickers?!?!?!  No one likes snickers, you should have bought reeces."  Chris moved to the kitchen to pour a bourbon--I should have joined him.  Caroline, "Can you take me to Bowling Green on Sunday?"  Boss, "I'm going to the UK basketball game so I can't."  Caroline, "What the hell?  Are you turning into a Cats fan?  We HATE  UK.  I want to go to Bowling Green."  (When did my children decide they could say 'hell' all the time?) Boss began to explain why he was going but then stopped to say, "Take a greyhound."  Back to the whole greyhound conversation from last month.  I jumped in, "She is NOT taking the greyhound."  Caroline, "I could just take a taxi."  Boss, "Are you an idiot?  What the hell? (That word again) Speaking of which, where do you put your glass at the table?  Mama says we're going to society hell."  Caroline, "Please someone take me to Bowling Green...wait, Mama, you told the boys to go to hell?'

I joined Chris.