came by late last week to help me install a new window sash. This morning, I called on him to deliver my promised orange-cranberry scones in payment for his generosity.
When Tom first made a house call to my abode several years ago (to install a new faucet for my kitchen sink), we spent more time chatting than working. I paid a paltry sum for the labor that he kept insisting wasn't "rocket science" and promised scones as a special treat.
From the sidewalk, he made the sign of the cross, blessed me, and said I should refer to him from then on as my House Priest.
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