Sunday, July 18, 2004

Hidden in the walls of my kitchen were fragments of 1940s wallpaper. Some housewife, maybe named Maggie or Joan or Edith, slathered wallpaper paste and carefully hung the colorful paper up. It featured a kind of Pennsylvanian Dutch farm theme- a hitching post, a blacksmith, a woman quilting. Later, as the wall cracked, someone else applied a thin skim of plaster over the wallpaper, sealing it in.
Before I plastered over the area where I had cleared around a crack I took one of my business cards and wrote the date on the back and dropped it in between the lathe. Maybe someday someone will find it and wonder who Homer was.

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