When
my husband and I were first married BC (Before Children), we got the half-baked
idea to move back to our hometown in Pennsylvania. We missed our families and
the countryside. To seal the deal, we bought an old farmhouse.
Every weekend, we’d travel from Virginia to Pennsylvania to
renovate the house. At the start, we thought we would be moving into the house
and living there, so the renovation work became far more extensive than if we
had been fixing it up to sell it. In the end, we realized that there were quite
a few reasons why moving wasn’t a good idea and were happy our plans didn’t
work out even if we had put far too much effort into the renovation.
We loaded the doors onto my husband’s truck and took them
back to Virginia so that during the week, I could strip the old paint and
restore their beauty. Since they were handmade, solid doors, I felt the effort
was well worth the labor and time. They were beautiful by the time I finished. But
other tasks in the house were in situ chores.
The
entire house was finished in old plaster, and a lot of it was in sorry shape.
When we tore down a wall to open compartmentalized space, we found that the
original owners were poor folks who insulated the walls with newspaper. The
newspapers dated the house’s age to 1916. The headlines featured WWI and the
women’s suffragette movement.
Much to my surprise, the editorials on the suffragette
movement focused on the question of who would raise the children—a question we
still struggle to answer—when I had imagined fearful, domineering men trying to
hold on to their power (although I’m sure there was some of that and some of
the other inane arguments justifying inequality). The opposition arguments were
better than I expected because their priorities on children were at least
valid. I took some of the advertisements from the newspapers, kept them and had
them framed.
One
night, after we’d been working on the house for several months, we were
slap-happy with fatigue and started knocking plaster off the ceilings in the
upstairs bedrooms. My husband worked in one bedroom, and I worked in another. Even
though my husband is a building contractor, to this day he favors new
construction because renovation is a dirty mess.
I’ve always loved champagne. My husband, wanting to reward
me for my perseverance, bought me a cold bottle, but he forgot that we had no
glasses, not even a paper cup. With no alternative, I opened the champagne and
drank directly from the bottle. Since we were young fools with a lot of energy,
we continued to work. Perched on a ladder and armed with a hammer in one hand
and the champagne bottle in the other hand, I knocked off old plaster, which rained
down on my head and covered me in grime,
when my brother-in-law came up the stairs to see how we are doing.
I hoped and prayed, and then he answered my prayers by
asking, “What are you doing?”
Of course, I replied, “I’m getting plastered.”
Do you orchestrate one-liners for your characters? Has life
afforded you the opportunity to deliver any good one-liners? Let me know. I’d
love to hear your stories.
The things we do when we're young! I only wish I had that energy and strength now. Good blog, Elaine!
ReplyDeleteI don't orchestrate one-liners for my characters. As in real life, I think that tends to make them sound strained. But sometimes the opportunity for one arises spontaneously, and that's nice.
Sadly, I usually think of one-liners long after the immediate situation is over. However, I was once confronted by a divorced man who claimed to have a court order stating that I could not continue to see his wife and children in therapy. She had the legal right to bring them in. I checked. He headed toward the door saying, "You would want to violate a court order." I answered, "Of course not. Just bring in the order so I can make a copy for the files."
ReplyDeleteHe looked like a deer in the headlights.
You're right, Linda. If you try too hard, the strain will show, but every now and again, a one-liner presents itself and can show your MC's whimsical nature. I like a character that can see the lighter side, especially since our work is so often dark.
ReplyDeleteSounds as if you called that one just right, Warren. I like it when bullies are cleaned, starched, pressed and spotlighted in stark relief. Real life affords few opportunities. We need to take advantage of every one.
ReplyDeleteOne-liners are tough because it's so easy to make them sarcastic. I've written good ones and sarcastic ones. The good ones aren't planned; the sarcastic ones hopefully fit the character speaking the line. Those are the ones that are tricky because you don't want the reader to identify your character as unlikeable or a smart ass. I have to admit to writing a few of those. :-(
ReplyDeleteI think you're being way too hard on yourself, Polly. Sarcastic characters can be fun. I know that sarcasm is supposed to be the lowest form of comedy, but at least it is comedy! Face it, a lot of our humor is sarcasm--we're not all fantastic comics. But we can poke fun, and often sarcasm is our fun. It's a great way to be self-depreciating, and most people like characters to evoke that personality aspect. (in a way that is unfortunate, but true)
ReplyDelete