POOPING IN A SHRINE

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

The landscapers are done. It's been 15 weeks of living in tracked-in dirt, strange men in the yard at all hours, mud rivers with all the rain we've had, and having to go outside with the dogs every time they need to go because we had the fence ripped out and they neeeeed to smell the strange men and give them a piece of their mind.

At the beginning of the project, we approved an estimate. We paid as we went, and of course made modifications as we went. We figured that we were paying for those modifications as we went along with the original estimate.

We thought wrong.

At the end of the job, the landscaper informed us of our overages. Which totalled nearly 50% of what we had already paid! We were speechless! Speechless transcends even the language barrier.

It does look absolutely gorgeous. People slow down to take in our house. I'll take some pictures, it's like something out of a magazine. Meanwhile, we're reeling from the bill.

There are several ways in which my life philosophy differs from Don's. One is in the area of finance. This is a very bad subject in which to have a fundamental difference with one's spouse. The other is travel... I never really worry about being lost in a foreign country with no money, for example, because I feel people are basically good and will get me back where I belong. Don feels people are basically out for their own interest and don't care if I rot in a Turkish prison. But I digress.

My view of money, generally, is that it is like hair. You have a bad haircut, you recover. You cut off too much, it will grow back. Don's view of money is that it is like hair. If you lose too much, you will never get it back, and then you will either have to join the Hair Club for Men or wear a toupee or a comb-over or suffer some other humiliating fate.

"Well, look on the bright side."

"hmph?"

"It looks amazing. We will enjoy it thoroughly. It will help resale."

"hmph." (drinks martini in 1 gulp)

"Are you ok?"

"hmph."

The dogs are happier about the development, so I talk to them mostly.

"Do you have to go out? Do you? Good boys."

"rawf! rawf!"
(which means, THANK YOU Mommy, whom we adore and respect, for planting the lush green grass for us to pee upon like the canine kings that we are. THANK YOU for the bird feeder which gives us something at which to bark our heads off early in the morning and wake the neighbors. You are indeed a beautiful person. Can we sniff your butt?)