Last night I drove out to Greenleaf to meet with window contractors.  I had envisioned something in a sweaty carhartt with crusty paws and 20 minutes worth of tape-measure; some grunting, some brief no nonsense describing of options, and a price quote for windows and labor not to exceed that of what my kidney might bring on Ebay. SUCH was so far from the case that it required Andrea and several beers to assure me that we were still in Greenleaf, Idaho. That some weird hole in the Men's Warehouse time/space continuum had not opened up right above the farm and swallowed my dream, replacing it with 2 freshly ironed disciples of the factory seconds rack.  I know it's harsh. And they were nice men…

I got out to Greenleaf with my six pack of organic beer, about the same time Andrea pulled up with killer nachos and green salsa from a nearby Mexican food restaurant.  Thank god. This served to soften the blow of the next hour and a half.

Around 5:45 a car pulls into the drive and 2 middle-aged missionaries stepped out. Or so I thought.   So, infact, I'm inclined to still believe…

'Al' wore a freshly ironed suit and tie, BROWN shoes with a tassel, and freshly pomped hair. Stan looked slightly more casual in a sweater vest and tie, black tasseld loafers and matching pompadour.  They were Company Representatives, and they were not there to ask about our relationship with Jesus Christ; not outright, anyway.  They were there to SELL ME WINDOWS.  What transpired was so odd and awkward, from a MY LITTLE HOUSE JUST NEEDS A FEW NEW GLASS COVERED HOLES perspective, that I kept having to look at Andrea, who had to look away so we wouldn't both just start laughing and hurt their permanent press feelings.  I kept looking from crisp ironed pleat to double knit to Andrea's reassuring smirk to verify that this was truly INSANE.  Was this faintly perfumed vintage JC Penny model really taking a heat lamp out of a velvet sack to simulate the damaging effects of sun through inferior glass?  Did he not look around at the place and see that the sun's rays were the LEAST of our concerns?  The wiring and plumbing were original 1930's vintage. Turn on the wrong light and the whole place could burst into flames. But the windows are guaranteed for life.

The show continued with several velveteen wrapped do-dads and gadgetry, a case the size of a massage table holding a Demo Window,  and several examples of Inferior Competitor Product…all designed to prove that THESE WINDOWS WERE THE ABSOLUTE BEST that your kidney on ebay could buy.  
Oh yes.  These windows will be unopened during the rapture.
These windows are all that stand between me and the 7th layer of Cold or Hot hell.  (Cold stayed out, and warm stayed in…unless you needed it to be the other way. These windows KNEW things)  These were truly the second coming of Christ in a vinyl argon double pane frame.  Who knew? I'd been looking for another hot hippie who preached love and acceptance. 

These windows cost over 10 grand.  That was after the discount.  TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS.  Al and Stan did NOT want to leave until I signed a contract saying that I was ON BOARD with the Window Plan.  I kept saying, 'Nope, I need to talk it over with my husband,'  which meant, 'I can hardly wait to tell Eric about the velvet bags and light meters. Do I look like I have ten grand outside my soft vital organs and some poor soul's final days desperation?'

For the right floor coverings, I might be willing to harvest some eggs, but windows…no way.  Anyway, were I looking, I'd expect to find God in something more substantial than what these gentlemen continued to refer to as My Openings.  But maybe not.  Maybe that's exactly where He'd be.

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