Through Lattice Windows: Wondrously Different
Leanne Hunt says she knows better than to expect her sister-in-law to copy her behaviour. "I am results-focused when it comes to household matters, and all I want is to get the problem solved as quickly as possible so I don't have to think about it anymore. She, on the other hand, lives for company and excitement.''
I have a sister-in-law who drives me to gym once a week and is my partner in the struggle to fend off middle-age spread. We have a personal trainer named Julia who has recently done up her kitchen. Week after week, my sister-in-law asks, "Julia, how are you enjoying your Smegg gas oven? I still have to call them out to fix mine. Please won't you give me their number?''
This has been going on for over a month. Now, if I needed an appliance fixed and I knew the name of it, I would get on the telephone. I would phone Enquiries and ask for the company concerned. Or, failing that, I would call the electronic information service, give them the name of the product, and ask them for the manufacturer's details. Within five minutes, I would be speaking to a representative in the Technical or Spares department, and I would fix a date for my appliance to be serviced.
But I don't tell my sister-in-law this. I know better than to expect her to do things my way. I am results-focused when it comes to household matters, and all I want is to get the problem solved as quickly as possible so I don't have to think about it anymore. She, on the other hand, lives for company and excitement. Having the Smegg fixed is not her priority. Talking about its unfixed status is. As long as the gas oven is faulty and she hasn't got the number for the manufacturer or service agent, she can elicit promises from friends to supply her with the information and expect frequent and regular enquiries as to how she is coping without it.
I find this difference between us fascinating. My sister-in-law is one of the best hostesses I know. She can whip up a four-course meal for twenty-three guests and draw gasps of admiration at the exotic ingredients she's managed to find. On top of that, she'll wave away compliments with casual remarks like, "Oh no, they're nothing! I wanted to get the giant red ones but the lady in front of me had a fit because she wanted them for her nephew's barmitzvah!"
And this, too, illustrates the difference between us. When it comes to telling a story, I will stick to the exact details as witnessed by myself. We were traveling at sixty kilometers an hour over fairly bad roads. She, returning from the same trip, will say, "We were literally crawling around pot-holes the size of craters!"
I often think it would be lovely to be like her, full of energy and ready to reveal the latest domestic drama at the drop of a hat. Visiting her for a seasonal celebration recently, I couldn't help noticing that the entire room fell silent when she joined in a conversation about visiting the hairdresser. Not a particularly riveting topic, to be sure, but the minute she volunteered her story, everyone paused in their own conversations to listen. We were regaled with an anecdote that had all the qualities of an epic tragedy!
I lack the stamina for such strenuous entertaining. My senses simply don't record that much information to regurgitate in story form. I find the degree of exaggeration intimidating, as if I'm constantly expecting someone to raise an objection or challenge a point. "Boobs the size of soccer balls? Surely not! And shouldn't you be calling them by their proper name, to avoid degrading the female form?" Oh, the burden of honesty!
And then there's the business of getting things done. I couldn't handle the stress of everyone knowing that I am at odds with my kitchen appliances. If my washing machine goes on the blink, I very quietly seek the help of the professionals, not letting on to anyone that I am put out, or annoyed, or - horror of horrors - actually upset about it! Energy has to be conserved, not squandered on long, drawn-out tales of woe! Besides, the last thing I want is people offering sob stories of their own on how their dishwasher let them down in the middle of a dinner party, or how their extractor fan broke their heart by collapsing all over their brand new glass-topped hob!
Give me a peaceful, straightforward access route to the service department anytime, and let me get my domestic hassles solved as quickly and unobtrusively as possible. We are shortly to commence the renovation of our entire kitchen and I am dreading the experience. My sister-in-law's kitchen renovation almost caused the collapse of her marriage and the bankruptcy of the contractor - not to mention the near nervous breakdown of the architect when the plans changed and the entire roof had to be redesigned! I hope for a smooth, harmonious execution of the job as ordered. No last minute alterations. No running around to friends to get opinions on how the electrician ought to wire the laundry. No magnificent, jaw-dropping accounts of a plumber who exhibits such ignorance in fitting pipes that an entire section of floor has to be re-tiled!
No, all I want is a basic, functional kitchen, as regular and ordinary as you can make it. Am I asking too much?
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To read more of Leanne's sparkling columns please click on http://www.openwriting.com/archives/through_lattice_windows/
