You might recall my plan to build an orchid greenhouse, a project that in part required that I take some of my neighbor's property without asking him first.

This might have been seen as a bold, perhaps even brash, move on my behalf, but as I predicted my neighbor has seen the righteousness of my plan. While he is claiming to study the proposal to determine whether my takeover of his land is a good idea, this "research" is clearly a move by him to save face, which is entirely understandable.

With that minor speed bump behind me, the project otherwise was proceeding nicely. Construction crews already had leveled the site and my neighbor's deck.

Then my wife had to stick her nose in things.

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"How much are we spending on this greenhouse again?" she demanded to know one day.

"I've told you this before," I said. "It will cost us $5,000."

"Then why — based on your plans, your credit card statements, your discussions with the contractor and a second budget that I found on your desk labeled 'Other Projects' — does it appear that you're spending nearly $10,000?"

"No, your numbers are incorrect. Five thousand is what we're spending on the greenhouse."

"Well," she said, "the evidence suggests you've just about doubled the cost."

I sighed and couldn't help rolling my eyes. She has yet to grasp the inner workings of the Columbus Way.

"If I told you $5,000, that's what it costs. There is no reason for you to be poking around in my financials."

"Our financials," she corrected. "Look at this. You have an estimate that heating and electrical service to the greenhouse alone will cost $3,000, but that's not included in the cost estimate you gave me last winter."

"Yes, because that is not considered part of the Greenhouse Project. That was work I planned to do anyway."

"You planned to run utilities to an empty spot in our backyard? Do you mind explaining why?"

"A lamppost. Or I was considering planting a tree and building a treehouse in it, once the tree was big enough. A 'she shed.' For you."

She kept at it.

"And why are you adding on to our garage? That wasn't included in your budget either."

"Also work I planned to do anyway, but now there will be extra room to park if people who enjoy orchids decide to visit. And visit they will! Come to think of it, we could charge a fee to park there. You can't look at it as a liability. No sirree. That garage addition could be a financial windfall!"

It was time to go on the offensive.

"Why do you hate orchids?" I asked.

"We've been through this," she said. "This has nothing to do with orchids. Orchids are lovely. This has to do with transparency. We have a long-standing relationship, you and I, and this violates my trust. Simply put, this behavior is dishonest. Not to mention condescending."

"We do go way back," I said. "Which is why I was about to tell you, today in fact, that our bottom line cost is $11,300, which includes additional funds for infrastructure for this incredible new jobs center."

"'Jobs center?' What on earth are you talking about?"

"Leverage," I said. "Because of this modest initial investment, this neighborhood could see 30 gazillion dollars in future private investments."

"You know," she said, "ever since work began on that new soccer stadium Downtown, you've been applying some unusual methods to our family affairs."

At this, a touch of frustration crept into my voice.

"There's one big difference," I said. "I can't stop thinking how much better this would be if I found a way to pull it off using other people's money."

tdecker@dispatch.com

@Theodore_Decker