After twenty years in a fairly dense residential neighborhood, my husband and I fell in love with a piece of land last summer. I guess it must have been July, since I remember telling the real estate agent that he’d better not sell it while we were in San Antonio. We’ve enjoyed spending some time there since, though we won’t be able to visit again until spring.
But here’s the autumn view from my imaginary back deck.
And I spent time in my imaginary office before the plow berm at the end of the driveway got too big to crash the truck through.
Of course it goes without saying I have a Pinterest board for my house.
Sadly, there’s no house in my yard, but that’s the plan. And in the planning of this house, I’ve realized just how much I don’t know about how to do a house properly. I don’t know how to use a dishwasher. I don’t know where people keep their bread and chips. I was keeping them in the microwave, but the kid developed a liking for breakfast Hot Pockets and his daily microwave use has led to the bread and chips being kept in a small laundry basket because it was handy. Do most people have a bread and chips cabinet? I don’t think I have enough cabinets. A bread and chips laundry basket can’t be normal, though, because I haven’t seen that on Pinterest.
Anyway, it recently occurred to me I have no idea how to have a garage. Why did this occur to me?
My husband was trying to kick the road slush build-up out of the wheelwells of my Jeep because Jeep screwed the pooch on wheelwell design and the wheels wouldn’t turn properly, and I was
yelling at speaking sternly to him because we were at a restaurant and it’s rude to dump your wheelwell chunks in somebody else’s drive. But he felt it was better theirs than ours. Plus, I might have mentioned it was getting hard to steer.
That’s when I realized all that stuff would melt off in a garage. And sit on the floor in nasty, slushy puddles. Who’s dealing with that? When it falls off in nasty, huge clumps in a driveway, you just keep running it over each time you move your vehicle until it becomes part of the driveway snowpack. But on a cement floor in the garage?
My husband loves that we haven’t even hired a builder yet and he’s already in trouble. “I’M NOT CLEANING THE GARAGE FLOOR. You’re going to let that crap sit around on our new garage floor and it’s all going to get tracked inside and I’m not cleaning that up, either. The garage is the man’s part of the house, which means it’s your job, and if that road salt gets tracked across my tile floor, I’m going to be mad.”
This is going to be a wicked fun process, you guys. He’s researching radiant heat and insulation, and I’m bugging him about where I’m supposed to put my National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation decorations on display for Christmas if we put the TV over the gas fireplace instead of a shelf.
Marriage survival pool, anybody?