I apologize in advance for any mishappenings or typos in this blog. I'm sitting on my deck, enjoying the beautiful spring afternoon and I'll be honest - I can't see shit on this laptop screen. The freakin' sun is too damned bright. I could go inside, but I already cleaned off my outdoor table, made myself a tall whiskey and lit my smoke - so I'm pretty much stuck here now. As I was getting shit in order to come sit on the deck and enjoy the sunshine, it occurred to me that this place looks like a shithole. I recall it used to look pretty - once. And at least for 2 years I think it looked pretty good. Well kempt, some landscaping, CLEAN. Now it's just a fucking mess. And as I was cleaning up just good enough to tolerate sitting at the table, I was wondering, what in the hell happened?
There used to be a time when I would clean this glass top table to the point that you could see right through it. Cleaning the underside and lifting off the glass to clean the rim and polishing and polishing the top until it was streak-free. Now? I wiped off the top and proclaimed it to be *good enough*, and also I made a note to NEVER EVER buy a glass table for the deck again. I like clean shit - I do. I love it spic and span and spotless clean, but I've lost my will to put forth that much effort as of late.
The backyard looks so fucking forlorn that I had to turn my back to it and face the house. The barn looks like it's falling down, the landscape pond that once housed fish and lovely lilies and a relaxing fountain is now nothing more than a hole full of scum and rotten leaves. There are no flowers. There is little grass. Hell, the swings and shit on the swingset are even all hanging off from a single chain. And then there is that fucking 40' bus of my husband's. What a fucking eye sore. He says he's going to get rid of it. I stopped believing him 6 years ago.
I'm sad. I was so excited to come out here and enjoy the deck that cost us our retirement to build - why is it such a damned mess? I'd like to think it's because it's too much work for my husband to tend to all of it. As I recall, when it used to look pretty and polished - I was involved in the upkeep - it had a woman's touch. But ever since the summer of 2006 when I found out we had in fact not purchased 3 acres of snake-free land afterall, I ceased entering the yard at all. It's not safe. Snakes cannot be trusted. They have no legs and I have a very firm commitment to not trusting anything with less than 2 legs or more than 4. Or flying things - they are unpredictable and also not trustworthy. So my poor husband is left to care for this 3 acres, the 2 outbuildings AND remodel the stupid interior all on his own. He is probably totally overwhelmed. As am I. From the fucking mess and also because of how shitty the whole place looks.
What? Why I don't get off this computer and quit bitching and get busy? I TOLD YOU - THERE ARE SNAKES. And my husband seems to think I have no clue how to operate any freakin' type of equipment - lawn tractor, rake, grill, whatever - it's a stereotypical "man" tool, it's off limits to me. He made his bed - he better get the fuck out of it and get busy is all I have to say.
I have a slew of people coming here for the prodigal son's graduation. I should be concerned with the mess. But as each day passes and we get closer and closer to graduation day, I care less and less about what the fuck everyone thinks about my yard, deck or house. They're here to celebrate a moment in my son's life, if they want to spend their time judging me then so be it. I don't really give a shit. I'll probably be drunk and fall in the pool anyway.
It's funny -our perception of our own things. Quite a few people come over and rant and rave about our deck, and how wonderful it is out here. I think they're just being polite. I'm guessing that as soon as they leave, they look at each other and say, "Can you believe what a shit hole that place is? Jesus. Why don't they take care of it? If we had that, we'd take care of it." NO YOU WOULD NOT. Because there is just not enough fucking time in the day or money in the world to get it all done.
I feel guilty bitching about the things I have. I do. But I'm not really bitching about WHAT I have - but more about HOW we treat it, or mistreat it. We have worked our asses off to get what we have, and I so badly wanted a new house - the kind you just walk in, drop your suitcase at the front door and shout, "I'm HOME!" but instead I got conned into this fixer upper money pit and it's been an uphill battle against time and money ever since. We no sooner get one room remodeled and something breaks, or leaks or falls off and we have to go back and do it all over again. 2 steps forward, 10 steps back. For 5 years it's been like that.
The other day I found the notebook I kept back when we looked at this house. It contains the list of everything we were going to do to it and how much it would all cost. $20,000 and 6 months. LMFAO. We're 5 years into it and so much over $20,000 that I no longer have a freakin' clue how much we've put into it. Then the real estate market crashed and all of a sudden - GUESS WHAT?!!! It's not worth what we have into it. For two years we did nothing - NOT one thing to this house - I refused to put a dime into it until we could get the equity built back up or the market turned around. Finally, I couldn't take it any longer and we decided to just return to our original plans and get back to remodeling because clearly, we are going to be stuck here the rest of our lives. Might as well enjoy the place if we're here! And ohhh - how I fucking enjoy it!!
I love how when we start one project, and put our savings into that, the house dictates instead how to spend the money. As a result, we are in a constant state of "in process". The husband is out working on a cabinet for a new oven we purchased 2 years ago. TWO years it has sat in the garage - waiting for a new home in my kitchen. He says it will be installed by next week. I'm placing my money on Labor Day weekend for installation.
It's okay - I'm used to it. I just don't deal well with it on some days. Like today, and also yesterday.