Monday, November 10, 2008
This is a picture I shot while standing on the dock admiring the beautiful red leaves on the trees. This is the dock that has two or three major, as in critical, boards missing due to the last storm we had where the tide went over the dock and played those boards like piano keys.
This is an SOS, a call for help, a throwing in of the flag, if you will, and an admission of defeat.
I realized today that the list of maintenance and repair projects for the house I live in far exceeds my physical, financial and mental capacity. If I were a pinball machine, you'd see the word TILT burned into my retinas.
Here is but a short list of what I realized is facing me with this house and yard:
1. On the front of the house, all shutters except one are down due to Tropical Storm This or Nor'Easter That. And when I say down I mean ripped off and torn to shreds. I'd be happy to put these back up (shreds notwithstanding), except the last time I checked they don't make a ladder long enough to reach the stratosphere, aka the location of the top windows of my house.
2. Most of the gutters and downspouts have pulled away from the house. When the next Tropical Storm This or Nor'Easter That blows through here, the surge of water coming directly off the roof will create a moat surrounding the entire house. I guess I could take the canoe from the back door to dry land whenever I needed to go to the store or take the children to the bus stop. Perhaps I could simply throw the mountain of dirty laundry that never ends into the water and hope it one day forms a land bridge. I already step on it regularly, it can't hurt to toss it outside and make better use of it.
3. The brush around the shoreline has grown to jungle-like proportions due to my inability to take out a push mower this summer. If anyone would like to see the jaguar in its natural habitat, just take a trip to Mathews, specifically my back yard. I give guided tours Monday through Friday. Today we discovered a small family of lemurs that recently took up residence in the canopy of the brush.
4. The boat is sinking. Still. Yes. It is. I have a sinking boat (with a not-so-sinking loan amount still due) that is pumped every 3-4 days by a homemade apparatus resembling this: You take your life into your hands plugging some Homemade Thing A into Slot B which is an extension cord from circa 1962 that then sparks up because you are only seconds from electrocuting yourself, and then if you survive that, you'll hear the thing start to work. Then you take your life in your hands dancing and high-stepping off the dock because, as referenced above, many of the boards are either (a) rotten or (b) non-existent or (c) how is it possible that nobody's fallen through the doggone dock yet and (d) is my life insurance policy up to date?
For anyone still awake at this point, I will now press Pause and refrain from going on any further about my Absolutely Endless List of Maintenance and Home Repair Projects.
The reason I'm doing this is really very simple.
I have to run and tell the ANTS having a fiesta in my foyer that it's past the kids' bedtime and they really have to keep it down.