How many of us are fortunate enough to work at our passion or be passionate about our work? I cannot tell you the number of dentists that I know who would rather be investment brokers, investment brokers who would rather be teachers and teachers who would rather be musicians. How many lawyers out there dream of playing their music on stage and how many physicians have an unfinished novel in their desk drawers? I have always admired those enlightened souls who knew right from the get go exactly what they wanted to do with their lives and made a direct beeline towards those goals. Most of us fumble through a series of misadventures before we actually fall into our life's work. We tend to run away from what we are good at or else we rely on preconceived notions and expectations that usually involve security, family and (the biggie!) money. Believe me, I get it! Security and money are important no matter how much our utopian view of the world would like to say otherwise. It is truly the blessed among us who get to live and do what we want without fear of financial ruin or societal expectations. (as an aside: in high school I was "counseled" to pursue maths and sciences because some jackass in guidance thought that I would make a great dentist. Can you imagine? I still wake up in the middle of the night sweating with the memories of Grade 13 calculus!) I have been fortunate to have been married to one such individual for lo these many years. The husband has always followed a path of passion rather than one of expedience and for this I admire him greatly. (Yeah I know-I am sucking up, but he says that I have been bashing him for weeks, so this is his apparent reward!) It doesn't hurt that he is frickin' brilliant! My man- who stopped going to his engineering lectures halfway through second year and still almost graduated on the dean's list. (Kids-don't try this at home as it really only works for the husband!) When he entered the software industry, it became evident early on that he couldn't handle the rigidity of working for Big Blue, so he struck out on his own, knowing that there was no paycheck forthcoming, and that I was in the fabulously high-paying career of Jewish education. He retired from that life at 37! Who gets to take a sabbatical at 37? (ok-rabbis, but who else?) While he searched for his next career, he decided, on a whim, to build a synagogue. All right-it didn't exactly work out as planned, but anybody in the know will tell you that we are where we are today in part because of his efforts. (synagogue work is thankless and designed only for the truly passionate!-Good Luck Mr. President-elect!) It really should not have shocked me when he came to me with his next venture. (I really want to call it hair-brained, but given where it is now, it seems so inappropriate.) Three years ago the husband and his twin son from a different mother went into the whisky business. You see the husband loves scotch! He doesn't just enjoy it, or imbibe from time to time, he loves it!! (Strange-in that I am not a drinker. My idea of heavy drinking is having that second Diet Coke after 9:00pm!) He savours every dram! The glass from which it is sipped has to be just the right weight and shape. It doesn't matter if the gold elixir comes from Speyside or Islay or Highlands (husband are you impressed?), it is as he describes it "the nectar of the gods" and can cure all ills. I honestly believe that he would romp around here in a kilt and sporn if I didn't feel very strongly that Jewish men from Polish descent with hairy legs should not be parading around in a skirt! I have been to liquor stores in some of the finest cities in the world so that he might discover the one bottle that his missing from the collection. He calls it market research, I call it dull!) It is not an exaggeration to say that the husband is the proud owner of 80-100 bottles of scotch whisky! He even had a special section in the bar built to house them all. He moped around here for days after the contractors encased his scotch within the plastic condom. (Of course, it took him a couple of days to realize that he is in the scotch business and all he had to do was bring a bottle home from the office, but I digress!) Yesterday, the husband did his version of the happy dance! The plastic came down in the family room and he could access the bar! This event was truly monumental in the construction process. Oven and Refrigerator be damned! The scotch has been liberated! The visualization of him caressing long lost friends was truly disturbing, but at least he is happy. Passionately happy!
Check out the newest pictures of the half-completed deck extension. We thought Hunky's guys might return today to finish the job, but that obviously is too much to ask. Overall told me yesterday that we should expect the cabinets tomorrow. He and Reliable were here yesterday with the sink, faucets, instant hot etc... Of course they are all still in the boxes as there is no place to put them, but at least they are in the house. I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.