Better Homes & Gardens

My wife has decided to not renew her subscription to Better Homes & Gardens.
“I never get to read that stuff, and furthermore what’s in there is utterly beyond reality,” she said.
“The perfect gardens, and the perfect home.”
The house we live in was designed by us, but it’s not something for feature in Better Homes & Gardens.
It was designed to function well; superinsulated and easy to keep clean.
Her beef with Better Homes & Gardens reminded me of the house of a bank-teller I worked with long ago, back in the late ‘60s.
I was the supervisor of a teller-line, and she was my best teller.
Always balanced to the penny, and processed a huge amount of cash.
She had a house in Henrietta, and another teller I had went to visit her once.
“Not there,” my number-one teller shouted.
“That’s my living room.”
“How come you call it your living room, when I can’t go in there?” the other teller asked.
“So I can keep it clean,” my number-one teller responded.
“So I guess it’s your clean room, not your living room.”
“It’s my living room!” my number-one teller said. “Only I can go in there. No dog, no one else.”
Her house was divided into two areas; a clean area no one could use, and a living area.
Stay out of the clean area.

• My wife of 42 years is “Linda.”
• The house we live in is 20 years old.
• “Henrietta” is a suburb south of Rochester, NY.