The publisher of HinesSight, namely me, has been contacted by someone, namely my wife, who was prominently mentioned in these pages recently, namely in the last posting. The publisher rashly printed out this post for Laurel’s information and amusement, and discovered that she was more informed than amused. Even though the publisher emphasized that some exaggeration is central to humor (do dogs really talk to bartenders?), my understandable desire to be able to go to sleep tonight without fearing that, sometime during the night, my head or some other important bodily organ will be smashed with a baseball bat by someone leads me to issue this correction:
Actually, there still is some artwork picked out by me on the walls of our house. And there also still is some furniture picked out by me on the floor of our house. Laurel recently stalked (I mean, walked) into my office and pointed out these items. The fact that they are all within the confines of a single 200 square foot downstairs room in our 3000 square foot house does not detract from the fact that they exist, and serve as eminent proof that I still have (a sliver of) control over the artwork and furnishings in our abode.
I also need to acknowledge that almost every home furnishing we possess has been bought by both of us. At the very least, this means that I have handed the VISA card to the sales clerk, after Laurel told me what we would be buying. Still, this is a mark of a healthy marriage in which power and control are appropriately shared, and I am happy to be married to such a beautiful, considerate, and loving wife, who is not even looking over my shoulder at the moment—so these words are freely chosen and freely written.