More from Minnie

I started to tell you about Minnie already, but today Kelly, who wasn't there the first time, asked Minnie to tell the story again. This is what she said:

It was our anniversary. Our tenth. Ray had been secretive for weeks, hinting he was planning something huge. Something special. He'd been kind of giddy, even, but, again: secretive.

I had been planning something for him, too. In secret, I'd measured his favorite sweater, a cardigan, and I'd used the pattern to design another one for him, a pullover, which he claimed to dislike, but I had a feeling he'd like this one. I'd designed it entirely myself, beautiful cables and popcorn-filled diamonds. It was beautiful.

Minnie had to stop talking for a moment, but then she continued.

But anyway, the morning--well, the night before our anniversary he told me he was going to work very early in the morning so he could be home in time for the big surprise later. I told him to wake me before he left, but he didn't. I got up at seven as usual, and I was setting the house in order, and then I heard this incredible noise in the street, like those speakers the kids have, playing loud music. Our street was always quiet, so I went to look and it was these two trucks that said "Home Invasion" or something, and, I mean, they had a whole crew, and they came right to my door.

There was a carpenter and a perky redhead who introduced herself as the host. She had a microphone and there was a camera man. They had me take them through the whole house and show them everything.

I mean, I've seen those shows on TV but I don't watch them. I don't even really know why. But so I had to take them through the whole hous and I was just glad I'd dressed and put on a nice outfit.

I showed them my fiber studio, where I have my looms and my spinning wheels and they asked me questions and had me do a little spinning and weaving demonstration, after they told me I had to sign a release to be on TV.

So I signed all the papers they gave me and we went around the house, and they made comments, too--mean things. They said my den was thirty years out of date.
But it was comfortable.

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