Ain't Love Grand!

My new friend Paul is a furniture-maker, but he'll take other jobs, too. He came here to look at my fence, which is  s-l-o-w-l-y  toppling over to the east, threatening to crush the biker's grandchildren when they visit.

Alas, Paul he won't be mending and replacing the fence any time soon. The furniture always takes precedence.

I called him today, though, because my nine-drawer chest needed some professional help. The drawers weren't sliding in and out properly. That had been the trouble when I'd first brought the piece home, but by putting the drawers out of order, things worked well enough.

Then I brought the thing to Derrick Johnson (www.stankinstudio.com), and he put the drawers back in their proper order again and now they don't fit again.

It took Paul less than an hour to methodically figure the drawers out. Some required the removal of thumb tacks someone else had tapped down long ago. Some required the shaving of paper-thin curls of wood. Two of the drawers had to trade places. I myself would have applied some cursing hammer therapy, but that's why he's a furniture-maker and I'm, um, retired.

Then he leaned against the filing cabinet and we chatted. When it was time to go, I pulled out my cash and asked him how much I owed him. "Just give me a smile," he said.

Oh my. Do you know how long it's been since someone has flirted with me? Me neither: that's how long. I felt as if I were blushing and scraping the floor with my toe, but I hope I just acted like my own self.

Still, when I walked him out to his car (of course I did!), we stopped by my poor murky pond, another chore he's going to do as soon as the furniture-making lets up. He told me in clear, easy terms how to rig a filter that would sift out the algae in a couple of hours. And because I was still breathless about my smile, I listened to him.

Please understand, Gentle Reader, I don't "rig" things. I don't fix things. I don't figure them out. I either get someone else to do it, or it doesn't get done.

But as soon as Paul was gone, I was off to Home Depot. I bought things I didn't even know existed. I don't think the pond will be pristine in just a couple of hours, but I believe it will get clean.

And it's all because of ... not love, of course, but something akin: the first step of affection perhaps. Love lifts people up. It really does. It inspires. It makes us want to do better, be better. And humans must want that sort of encouragement or those sappy Christmas movies wouldn't last a single season.

I got that today, and now the fish – providing they still exist – will be all the better for it, and so will I, and so will you.