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Astroturf

The Bishop called me, once, and said that our new little California parish was doing very well, and that he had decided to put another parish into the area.  "Wonderful!", I thought, but did not say, "He wants me to cheer for the competition."  Instead, I said something like, "I see."

The Bishop had a little favor he wanted to ask of me:  Would I be so kind as to find a house for the guy who was coming from New Mexico?  He gave me a budget.  "All right," I thought, "I will find him the best house in town for the money."  And I did.  I even persuaded the Bishop to raise the allowance.

The new guy from New Mexico told me he hated the house.  How, sharper than a preacher's tooth, was Adam's bite, moving into what was not exactly the Garden of Eden, but which compared rather well with what he had come from, Somewhat Southeast of Eden.

We are selling our home here in Minnesota.  Our realtor, who is a very nice, very competent person, nicely suggested that we needed to "de-clutter", and pointed to every painting and pot that I love dearly, from people who are more than just nice, competent artists.  Now, there is some truth to her sharp-fanged suggestion that we have too much stuff, but I like to think of our litter things as art, and a style.  "The African masks have to come down," she said, "and most of those paintings and hangings, and pack up most of those pottery things, for God's sake, paint the bathroom!  And I know a guy who can recarpet both upper floors for less than you spend on the war in Afghanistan!"

So here am I, restyling a house for another guy from Mythical New Mexico, picking out carpet, choosing a color for the bathroom walls, and decorating it in the style of a Minimalist from a Monastery in Maine.  I cannot bring myself to put in cheap carpet, and I cannot afford what I would like to have, if this were my house, and not the realtor's.  As another realtor said, because all of them memorized the same text book, "People don't have good imaginations.  If they see those African masks, they will say they don't want a house with African masks."

They aren't going to get the masks, but they are going to get the carpet we choose, and they are going to get a chartreuse bathroom, or whatever it is we select.

And as for the Bishop, he should stick to his knitting!  Or his class action lawsuits.

We have been thinking about a nice indoor-outdoor carpet.

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