Next Time, I’ll Just Clean the Oven

Got the house on the market (yay!), and I thought I’d take advantage of these balmy fall days to clean up the garage and the yard, thus ensuring that it looks like nobody actually lives here.

Started with the row of 7 huge, old-growth fir trees in our front yard. The branches had grown too long and started drooping, hiding the park-like area underneath. Yep, definitely time for a trim. Cranked up the iPod, grabbed the hedge clippers, and happily started whacking and snipping in time to Beyonce’s “All the Single Ladies,” complete with bad, but enthusiastic karaoke sing along (cracking up several dog-walkers, and causing the entire next-door preschool to break out their best 3-yr-old dance moves).

4 hours later, sweaty and exhausted, with aching arms, I stood back to admire my work. Wow. Seems I was having a tad too much fun and should have stopped BEFORE Elvis’ extended version of “Jailhouse Rock.” The entire row looked like giant Charlie Brown Christmas trees with G.I. haircuts. Well, crap. I assured a somewhat hysterical Kenny that the old growth would replace itself in, say, 50-60 years and that we could just tell the new owners they’re “starter trees.” (Hopefully the neighbors will stay silent for a small, one-time payoff. It wouldn’t be the first time.)

Moving on to the garage. Decided to move some of the summer toys up into the attic, and put my scooter behind the house. (Some day, I’m going to have a garage that actually houses my CAR instead of tools, fishing gear, motorcycles, extra fridge and freezer, lawn toys, gardening equipment, canning supplies, car cleaning products, winter tires, dog food, and Kenny’s ladders and painting materials. Apparently my garage needs a garage.)

Hopped on the scooter, fired it up, and drove it across the wet grass to circle around to the back of the house. Epic fail on that last turn, sliding into the flower bed, instantly obliterating the last remaining fall foliage, smacking headlong into the rock bird bath, then coming to a stop as the scooter sank deeply into the wet dirt. SERIOUSLY?? It’s now parked like white trash yard art, and nothing will budge it. Maybe the new owners will assume it’s an expensive sculpture. Yeah, probably not. And by the sound of the loud guffaws of laughter from across the street, the neighbor is not going to keep quiet for the usual roll of quarters. Maybe he likes wine. That could work. I’ll take him a good bottle…AND a roll of quarters.