Welcome
In my heyday I was a dog-sitter, a job I loved because of the uncomplicated companionship and quiet. I couldn’t believe that I was paid to sit in people’s empty homes, snuggle with their dogs and curl up with their books.
The only glitch was the keys. I’ve never been a great key keeper (or keeper of anything for that matter–when I was in the eighth grade I lost my Algebra book and couldn’t find it for weeks only to discover it inside our grand piano) but managing keys is especially stressful when they lead to a mansion and two loved-starved, thirsty golden retrievers scratching on the other side of the door. My worst fear was that I would either forget to lock the door–and the contents of the house, including the retrievers, would be emptied by my next visit–or almost worse, I’d have to admit to the owners that I’d lost their keys and have to come clean about my secret life as a flake-in-hiding.
One of the most surprising aspects of dog-sitting was that time spent in empty homes gave me fresh insights into the owners. I’d be surprised by their kooky habits (like one lady who kept a Leaning Tower of Pisa collection of laundry detergent scoopers in her garage) or by the blurry feelings pervading the rooms. Some houses I’d want to linger at for hours, and others I’d want to flee as soon as the dogs were fed and I’d relocated my keys.
I always felt that being in peoples’ homes was an oddly intimate experience because I got to see who they were when they weren’t watching me back.
A personal website is a little bit like that. Sure, I’ve had a chance to clean things up a bit, but I expect you’ll encounter me in a way I don’t expect or anticipate. At least I hope that‘s what will happen.
Feel free to drop me an email (unless you’re the widow of the late King of Nigeria or any other noble person from any other country with a business proposal). I enjoy making cyber connections. If you don’t hear back from me quickly, keep in mind that I may be hunting for my keys and bear with me.
Blessings,
Jenny Schroedel
