on Irish landlords

and laundry machines delivered in the mick of time.

Having a landlord is great - as long as you have the right landlord.

When Laura was just about ready to pop with our first kid, we decided that getting out of the twenty second floor of the ant hill we called home would be a good idea.

We found the perfect place. It had two bedrooms and was in a great part of town.

The landlord?

He wasn’t having any of it.

I’ve got another spot. It’s a bit further east. It’s a whole house. With the baby coming it might be a better spot for the two of ya.

His lilt was dazzling. From northern Ireland, Mick was a blue eyed salt and pepper delight.

We have a lot of spots around town. It’s the family business…

We figured Mick was IRA.

Maybe not.

But ‘family business’?

Cash only payments of rent?

And if we talked to him about Ireland?

He changed the subject quickly.

I figured he killed a few people, made a few bombs back in the day.

Maybe not.

But it was a fun fantasy to have.

We took the house.

The place was tired and old.

Do what you want with it.

I learned to run wires and …