The Last Five Minutes of a Repair Are All She Remembered
I want to talk about how a person decides whether I did a good job, because it almost never matches what actually happened in the house. There was a furnace call back in January, deep cold, the kind of morning where the ground crunches and your breath hangs and the truck door handle bites your bare hand. North edge of Kingfisher, a frame house with a propane tank in the side yard and a dog on a chain who decided I was the most interesting thing to happen all winter. Older couple. The man met me at the door in a flannel shirt buttoned to the throat with a stocking cap on inside the house…
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