Delicate Hands

I was folding laundry or doing something else mature and/or productive this weekend when I heard a tentative male voice in the doorway to my kitchen. “Uh, Kay? Can you give me a hand? The handle broke off in my shower and I can’t turn the water off.” My tenant was standing on the landing…

Just Like the Bermuda Triangle

Every house has a certain, dangerous location that sucks in random items like a domestic black hole. That spot in the dollhouse is the leather sectional in the living room. I’m the first person to sheepishly admit that my tidying practices are to housekeeping what the blooper reel on American Idol is to music. Martha…