I wrote this post like a week ago, but was holding off on posting it because I thought I might like to add pictures. Then, my home computer got some sort of Trojan that made it (and I’m not exaggerating here at all, this really happened) play an audio clip of someone crying and praying the Our Father. I don’t understand how these things happen, since I bought this computer in August and I didn’t realize that people still got computer viruses, let alone that they did weird things like this.
Anyway, no pictures. Use your imagination.
So since I’ve written last, winter happened. Christmas was a thing, and then New Years and Valentine’s Day followed, and there were other days that occurred as well. It was cold forever, and I spent the entire season moping about how cold it was and operating at about 20% efficiency, which, although I haven’t verified this, is about as efficient as I estimate my 30 year old furnace to be. I was productive enough to shower, go to work and occasionally even feed myself, but not much else happened in the way of looking for new jobs, improving my home, or writing in this blog. Which brings us to right now.
Today, I had a venti iced coffee, and it has left me with a venti urge to Get Back on That Metaphorical Horse. Not a real horse, though, because they’re huge and terrifying and why do humans need to ride animals at all when we have cars? This is 2013, no one needs to ride a horse.
So, as I’ve mentioned, I own my home. I know, whatever, a lot of people own homes, and this is not a huge accomplishment. My house was pretty much in move-in condition when I bought it almost 5 years ago, and I have done very little to maintain it, but every time something has happened, it has happened with great drama.
I’ve mentioned the GREAT CEILING LEAK OF 2010, and then there was the lesser Ceiling Leak of 2012, which occurred when part of a fan blew off of my roof during a thunderstorm, causing a large hole through which rain poured in. I was able to find an amazing roofing company who fixed it for 100 dollars. Can you imagine that? In my head, I’ve conjured up such a horrible image of contractors wherein they see that I’m some defenseless young girl with a checkbook and they overcharge me because I am vulnerable. To date, this hasn’t really happened.
There are some things in the house that I have fixed myself or with the help of a dear companion. I replaced a ceiling fan with an overhead light (solid B+ work, I only had to re-do it once because I didn’t twist the wires tightly enough). I added thresholds between the carpet and hardwood (probably more towards a C+ job, since I knew nothing then [or now] about staining wood.) Elissa and I (although mostly her) replaced the dimmer switch for the recessed can lights in our kitchen because the previous switch required a comical amount of manhandling before it would stay on without flickering, and sometimes, if you laughed or coughed or yelled too loudly, it would switch off altogether. I don’t want to admit how long I lived with that faulty switch before actually doing something about it, but I will just say that it’s a Whole New World we’re living in now that the kitchen lights turn on exactly in the fashion we desire.
Generally speaking, I’m happy with my house. It’s in pretty good shape and I’ve decorated it satisfactorily. I bought it when prices were low, and I think that even if I sold it today, I’d still be able to make a bit of a profit. It hasn’t been a money pit by any means, and I feel good knowing that it’s ‘good debt,’ which is a thing that homeowners say to feel smarmy about people with credit card debt. (This is conflicting for me, since I am in both of those demographics.)
The backyard, however, is the thorn in my side. Every summer since 2008, I have attempted different things to make the backyard more appealing.
It’s not even a huge yard. We’re talking maybe 25 ft by 60 ft? It’s a small area, but it’s enough to make me insane. I bought a rhododendron (it died), I bought a chinese lilac (it died), I bought 2 small eucalyptus-looking shrubs, which are marginally still alive, I guess, but they look pretty bleak and they’ve got weeds all tangled up in them. Meanwhile, there are randomly-placed unsolicited perennials that appear yearly, along with some suspicious-looking succulents. There also used to be wild onions, but I think my fat dog ate them into extinction one year. There’s one of those plastic ponds, with some kind of cemented-in filtration system that has never worked, to my knowledge, so I just scowl at it and empty it yearly. And then it fills back up again with moldy rain water, and the dogs drink out of it when they want to throw up.
Part of my problem with the backyard is just discipline. I have no intrinsic motivation for landscaping, and I don’t have the right tools, so I never really gain any pride from it. It’s not like any of the other things I’ve learned, like painting, or mild electrical work.
It’s hard labor, with weird mismatched rusty tools. I have an electric lawnmower that I inherited from my parents, and I have a manual reel mower that I bought on my own, and mowing the lawn with either of them is terrible in its own unique way.
Here’s how it usually goes:
- Spring starts and I’m committed to maintaining the yard and I mow the lawn.
- Maybe this occurs the next week, and sometimes, in the most ambitious summers, even the week after that.
- Then it rains or we go out of town or we have to work late or something else happens.
- Then the grass is too long for my little sissy lawn mowers. And then there’s too much dog poop, and it would get stuck in the blades of the mowers if I tried, and this is when lawn morale sinks and I just wait for the grass to die. This is almost certainly before June 1.
Well, this year is the year, folks, because I AM HIRING SOMEONE. 2 SOMEONES. And they are going to mow my lawn and pick up dog poop. And you know what? I don’t feel guilty about spending this money, because this will make me happier.
Here’s my reasoning. There are 2 of us, living in a low-priced home, with moderate debt, and decent jobs. We’re not super-rich, but at any given time, either of us have enough money in our accounts to spend 30 dollars on dinner or make-up (this is me) or wine or records (this is her) or any other random frivolous purchase that comes to mind. And we do spend that money, probably more often than we should. So the funds are there. I think it’s just time to face the fact that doing-it-yourself doesn’t mean you have to do EVERYTHING yourself, especially when that really means that it just doesn’t get done.
Everyone knows that when the inside of your house is clean, you feel better. Walking through freshly-vacuumed rooms unencumbered by mountains of mail and clothes (Currently, because winter weather just ended last week, 3 of my dining room chairs are covered in layers of jackets and coats that we’ve worn in the past 2 weeks) just makes me feel calmer. Otherwise, it’s easy to just let it all swallow you. What I didn’t realize until just recently is that the backyard is the same way. It’s not a pet or a child or something that commands my constant attention, but it needs to be maintained, and if I can’t do it myself, then I need to hire someone to do it, so that it doesn’t swallow me. Also? I want to have company sometimes, and having an overgrown poop garden for a backyard is embarrassing.
So I guess that’s all that’s new. I am vaguely optimistic about a job thing that is happening, but since I don’t really know how long I’ll have to wait before something happens, it’s not really worth mentioning. All I’ll say is that I think that good things are happening, even if they are happening at an incredibly slow pace. Maybe by the time summer comes around, I’ll have more to report.
Also, since I wrote this, I had a guy take the pond out. The whole experience was pretty underwhelming, and basically, the company sold me (actually Elissa) a coupon for 8 HRS OF HANDYMAN WORK and instead of letting us work this (mildly drugged-looking young) man’s fingers to the bone for 8 hours to do all of my bidding, he just propped up our leaning fence and took out the pond, putting maybe an hour and 45 minutes in. But we thought those jobs would take longer, and it didn’t seem like he could have done much else, ability-wise, so maybe it went as well as it could have. At least our fence isn’t leaning anymore and the pond is gone, but maybe the guy missed the point of taking out such an eyesore, because he left me a new eyesore, a large pile of dirt and rocks where it used to be. Overall, it’s a wash. I’ve been thus far unsuccessful in finding a new landscaping company to come out and give me an estimate on cutting the lawn regularly and cleaning up the pond drama. I imagine landscapers to be an aloof sub-culture of people who can’t be held down by ‘appointments’ or ‘offerings of weekly cash payments.’ If we could all be so lucky…
(Also also, never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that some day, I’d write over 1600 words about a patch of grass.)