The Yankee Who Keeps Me Grounded....

Well thank goodness for Dina. Dina is a yankee through and through. A lifelong resident of an eastern seaboard state, Dina shoots from the hip and blows through my bullshit like an IED. SHe called me this morning at 8:10 am. She doesnt think I need to sleep in. I began telling her about the appraisers:

Yesterday, some appraisers came by to assess the value of our home here in Detroit. The honest value has dropped about $80K in the last two years as Detroit's economy has been swirling the drain. I was embarrassed at the disorganized, disheveled and downright cluttered junk that was everywhere, watching the appraisers step over piles and pick their way through the mine fields. One guy was a strong-jawed Steve Lawrence-type personality, the other, an undertaker. He creeped me out in his black trench coat, his lackluster, beady eyes taking it all in and wordlessly conveying that this was a disaster in the making. I was telling Dina all about the Undertaker, then switched gears and began filling her in on the details of our potential new house and all the unbelievable amenities that this house had to offer. I gave her a description of the floor plan, the to-die-for gourmet kitchen with pantry, the stained-glass transoms and the solid white oak interior doors. She listened in her way, to me extolling the fact that the house had five bathrooms, but that the master bath had a separate water closet, so I could take a dump while Hub was in the shower. Dina took aim and fired: "Well isnt that just like you, you greedy beeyoch. Five bathrooms in the house and you have to stink up the one that your husband is using." I felt myself thud back to earth. Yep, that's my Dina.