My husband is not a chore guy

"Where are you, Sue? Come in now. I'll open the gate for you." A phone is finally come! Long-awaited phone calls came from the door of a neighbor’s country house when I got home and fill a hungry belly with ramyeon.

My husband and I went to a Polish neighbor Upstate Country House in New York. A few days ago, a neighbor who my husband met on the street was invited us to visit her new house, saying that the house in front of his house came out to sell at a low price. The neighbor said they would leave on Friday morning. We left in the afternoon in the rosy fantasy that we could afford a summerhouse for a low price.

I met my neighbor when I was pregnant with my second child in the City Hospital. Until the birth of the baby, we soothed the boredom of waiting for the hospital's turn on almost the same day of the wake-up. Then, a few years later, she bought a big house in the same block as my house and moved in. So it's not just a casual relationship.

She divorced in Poland at a young age and worked hard for ten years working as a maid at the Jewish house in the United States. The husband, who met in the United States, also worked for a long time at a steel mill. The two remarried, and combined the money they had collected, bought a building with several apartments. Moreover, they saved enough money to buy 52 acres of land in the country, and built a mansion. Sincerity and diligence are the only things to say.

Before leaving to her country house, I asked my husband, 'Do they know we are visiting their house.' He insisted that my husband who loves the 'roughly' could just go. We left at one o'clock and arrived around five o'clock. I stopped by the diner around 3 o'clock to eat late lunch, but it took me about 4 hours due to heavy traffic. The gate was securely locked and did not answer the phone.

Ignored the 'personal ownership' sign in front of the gate and went through the forest. There were also signs of "personal ownership" attached to the trees that walked down the gravel road around the dense forest. I saw a magnificent house far away. The gravel road did not end in front of the house, but continued along the lake, and the garden was gorgeous and colorful with all kinds of flowers. There were 'camera installation' signs everywhere. I called out her name, but there seemed to be no one.

Came back the front of her gate and saw the "For Sale" sign in front of the collapsing house that the neighbor told me to buy at a cheap price. This is the house facing the entrance of her house head-on. If we buy this house and repair it, in a word, it was the perfect house for her janitorial office.

Did she try to use us as part-time butler to take care of her property? It was a thought that popped into my head that I had been upset not to see her.

'I guess they misunderstood my husband as a chore guy who is known to be diligent in my neighborhood, and who knows how to make things better because he is an artist.' Anyway, this thought upset me.