This morning I woke up, ready to take on the challenge that had been weighing heavily on my mind for months. True, it's only three days until Thanksgiving and I have a gazillion things I could be doing. But sometimes, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And the spirit was moving me, so I went for it. I painted the powder room. I started at 11:00 and by 4:30 had stripped off the old wallpaper border, been to Home Depot for paint, put the switch plate covers back on and cleaned up all the rollers and brushes. Hubs came home, took a big whiff and looked around. "What got painted?" He's used to this. It's something that we've become accustomed to in our marriage. You see, ours is a mixed marriage. He's an engineer. He specializes in quality processing. When he does a project it is well planned, carefully executed and usually turns out pretty darn near perfect. I, on the other hand, live by a motto that says, "Get 'er done and a blind man will be only too glad to see it." In 23 years, we've learned to compromise. Mostly, we don't do projects together. And when we do, whoever is the project leader calls the shots. For instance, last Saturday was Family Leaf Raking Day. There was much forethought that went into this activity (as you can tell it was his project), long before the day arrived. For several weeks, the trees in our yard were studied and evaluated to predict the optimum day for the most productive leaf raking. We want the trees as bare as possible -- but it has to be before the first snowfall, because. . .well, you know what it's like to rake wet leaves. It's really yucky. On the day of, my sun-sensitive, fearless Leaf Hunter was clad in his safari-style Tilly hat, armed with the leaf blower and the course of action was set. He would take charge of the perimeter of the yard and flush out the offending foliage. The rest of us, clad in gloves, sweatshirts and armed with rakes and bags would take the middle. As Hubs was working away to the din of the leaf blower and whistling to the tune played by his ipod, I was organizing the troops to rake, bag, rake, bag -- stop fighting -- rake, bag, rake. . .get busy! Wait. What's wrong with this picture? Dan! It's not working! You need to get over here and organize the troops! He's oblivious and I'm getting irritated. The back of my neck feels hot and prickly and I slowly edge my way to the back of the yard with a plan of escape. I'll hop the fence and run around the block to the front of the house and slip inside for a cup of tea. With that, I hear leaves crunching behind me, and my fearless Leaf Hunter is approaching, offering me one of the earbuds to his ipod. We both listen to Josh Turner singing Would You Go With Me. In his deep bass voice that is the first reason I fell in love with him, Hubs sings along . . . "If I gave you my hand would you take it and make me the happiest man in the world. . . " And, oh dang it, I can't be mad anymore. By the end of the afternoon, we filled 24 bags of leaves to take to recycling. The powder room is a beautiful shade called Bleached Denim and he swears he likes it. After 23 years, I think we work pretty darn well together.