But she turns into a Wizard Of Oz-style tornado of rage if I get near our kitchen granite countertops with a drill bit and maintains an irrational skepticism about other internal projects regardless of how many times I have paid people to fix things I have messed up.
Yet I was working in the master bedroom bathroom - neutral ground, to my mind - and she was not angry, just curious as I toiled away.
"What is that contraption?" she asked. "It is vaguely familiar but I am not sure where I have seen it. Is it some new Steampunk thing you are working on? I liked the pneumatic Aeolian you made from an old Samsonite suitcase but that vacuum tube vector network analyzer is taking up a lot of space - plus, it only goes up to 800Hz. No one works at DC any more."
I let that go.
"It's better than all of those," I said. "You know how I am always taking clothes to the dry cleaners? This contraption eliminates all that. It's going to be huge. Think of the accolades I will get from environmental advocates because I am not driving for nice clothes."
"Wait, I think my grandparents had one of these," she said. "But I have never used one. Can I try it?"
"It's brilliant," I said. "You plug it in to a wall outlet and a few minutes later you are done. It doesn't even need bluetooth or a login. But you'd better watch me a few times before you take control."
"No login? Aren't you worried about hackers? Some kid will be controlling it from Russia."
But before I go any further ... can you identify the mystery contraption that stumped her in the picture below?