RENOVATIONS "What do you think?" I ask him as we size each other and "what seems to be the problem." It's one till now we’ve lived with, but that's no way to live as my wife says. It looms, a three-inch cliff to climb into the kitchen, tall enough to trip up even the familiar on a midnight pilgrimage to water. I may not know the fix, which is why he’s here, but at least as a believer in God I know how such canyons form, the slow accumulation of sediment. It starts with something pure at base: hard- wood, say. Then one of us decides it needs to keep up with the times and overlays a loud design of laminate. When the times are no longer the times, someone else moves in and tries to update the space to fit the times again, something that says yep, we’re cutting edge here , cutting an edge to trip a stranger’s children who will inherit the house we’ve built. On and on.