Ode to the Ole House in Powdersville

It wasn't the knobs on the shower faucet being backwards or the television whose colors changed depending on which part of the livingroom you walked through. It wasn't even the upside down light swtich that made me say, "enough is enough" . The night I tripped over the Gym-Pac, fell in a swivel chair and rolled into my bedroom catching my robe on the place where the doorknob wasn't, I began to reflect on how easily one arranges his life around the negatives.We were always the type family that thought the worst when something went wrong - a burned out lightbulb meant a faulty wiring system, a clogged drain most likely had it's root a hundred feet uderground and a spot on the carpet would require a complete room renovation. This attitude has been the root of my bent toward procrastination. When we had our bathroom remodeled we were like cave men seeing the wheel for the first time. We never realized the floor could be level, the walls sparkling, and the toilet silent. I don't know - I had sort of grown fond of the little Clemson football helmet lamp with no shade that was confiscated from little brother Joel's room when the bathroom light shorted out - we were right that time - it did require an attic visit by an electrician. For a year after that we kept telling people the kitchen light also had a short in it until mama decided - uhh just for the heck of it to change the light bulb - IT WORKED!!