Better Than Nothing

So, with the house on the market, suddenly we are forced to re-examine our home improvement priorities. And I have had revelations on a disturbingly regular basis. Like, I'm really NOT a good housekeeper, since cleaning only when the filth has reached near-landfill conditions doesn't really count as house"keeping." Like, I took the Master Gardener course, but may not havev actually learned very much, since I hardly ever do any work on the yard and I lied about being the outdoor type, what with hating sweat and bugs and all. Like, hard work makes me tired and I'd really rather NAP. The baby gets to nap, why don't I get to nap?

Once you have people traipsing through the door every three or four days and looking inside cabinets (I'm assured by the realtor that "people like organized cabinets." Thankfully, I may be messy but I'm organized. I dunno, you figure it out.) you are forced to acknowledge your character flaws and either cover them up or jump the hurdle once and for all. I've elected to split the difference. For example, I organized the garage, but my shoes are in a big heap. The upper cabinets are a dream of tidiness, but the small appliances cabinet is Oscar the Grouch's vacation home. The back back yard is half-mulched, but I re-did under the deck yesterday.


We're calling it Cafe Moe, and while not perfection, it's a huge improvement from the exposed concrete and ramshackle weeds that were there before. And all in under an hour. Boy, am I embarassed. I rearranged the patio tiles and relaid them, then put down some builder's sand in the joints.

I laid out mulch beds and have some new bushes--a dwarf gardenia and some kind of holly--to put at the gate. And I moved the furniture. Better, yes?