our hovel

We have this amazing contractor friend, Philip, who has done some work on our house. He is truly wonderful- does great work, on time, is super friendly and reliable and just wonderful. For example Jim mentioned to him today that we were noticing a mildew smell coming out of our vents. And within 3 hours Philip was at our door to check it out. Amazing. Wonderful. But now as he is leaving, I feel like a total wreck.

First of all, I was still in my pajamas and in the middle of nursing Jonathan when he came to the door. So I'm already feeling self-conscious. But then we go around back to get to the crawlspace and of course to get through the halfway painted fence we go through the gate that is held shut with a bungee cord because I haven't fixed the latch that broke last winter. And of course after the crawlspace, he wants to check out the actual smell coming from the vents- one of which is under our front windows that leaked about 2 years ago messing up the plaster and paint in a big area between the windows and floor. The leak has been fixed, but since the area is behind the sofa the wall itself hasn't been fixed. It looks terrible. But of course he wants to pull the sofa out so he can smell that vent. After checking it all out, I show him out through the front door where the storm door came off of its hinges and blew into the front railing the week we moved in (4 years ago) knocking the railing off and into the garden. Neither have been fixed.

As he is leaving, he asks if we've decided yet on what kind of new gutters we want (he gave us some quotes a few months ago). Except that isn't what he says. What he says is "Have you guys decided about taking down that rooftop garden yet?" Referencing, of course, the multitude of plants that sprouted and are now well established residents of our current gutters. Honestly one of them is over 2 feet tall.

In general I don't think of our home as being in such disrepair. But when I start putting all of that stuff together... I'm sure Philip thinks that I am a total wreck. It is like having Martha Stewart come over for dinner and serving take-out chinease. That is certainly how I feel as I watch his pickup truck pull away from our dirty little hovel. None of these things would take much effort to fix- 15 minutes with the power drill and the latch to the gate would be good as new. 45 minutes, a bit of drywall mud, and a can of Kilz would take care of most of the problem with the water damaged plaster. 2 hours and the fence would be all the same color. But none of them are done. I am, after all, the queen of half-finished projects. The problem is that once I can see the end of a project, my brain starts planning the next one and that is so much more exciting than finishing the last details of the current one. FOCUS, woman, FOCUS!!