Random reminder

Press, 9 May 1979, Page 29

Random reminder

MEMORANDUM

The couple debated about selling their spacious old property and moving into a compact up-to-the-minute unit. They dreaded the amount of blood, sweat, and tears it would involve in restoration, but finally decided it had to be done and the sooner the better. So they tackled it this way: she would give the inside a thorough face-lift while he spread a new look all over the outer. Everything must be “spot on” before putting the place on the market. Redecorating the interior and exterior of the house ate up a whole month, then an extra plush to lawn and furnishings gobbled up another two weeks. Temperatures were really rocketing when she faced her last chore — flossing up a large, white, sheepskin, eye-catching rug, which sprawled across the bedroom floor. When it was all done she dragged herself as far as the sun-room and collapsed on a settee in a hidden comer.

He came in, surveyed the spotless realm and regardless of his prostrate wife, telephoned the real estate agent. “Can you come at once, before we change our minds, besides I don’t want to have to give the lawn another haircut if I can help it.” ’Til be right over,” agreed the obliging businessman.

By this time the weather forecast was coming over loud and clear. “It’s a record high for Christchurch at 36.” He threw the French doors wide open to let in some air as well as the very important gentleman, who was to compose a flowery advertisement together with a high price tag on the immaculate house and garden. The wife was still prostrate when the real estate agent was taking his leave. Her jubilant husband woke her, “Guess what? Thirty thousands, thirty thousands,” he raved, as he caressed his rippling muscles. “By golly it was worth all that blood, sweat and tears — whew.” The little woman sat bolt upright, “What about me?” she whimpered, “What aboutme?” she whimpered, then bubbled excitedly, “must go and have another look around, bet he thought how immaculate everything was in here.” She got as far as the hall when she caught a whiff of an unpleasant aroma. It wafted from the bedroom, yet in spite of the open French doors did not escape the two tiny ventilators on the end of her nose. And there in the middle of her sheepskin rug, the rug which had squeezed the last thirty mis. from her aching body, there, right in the dead centre of her white magic eye-catcher — the neighbour’s cat had left its card.