Curb Appeal

We had some pretty nice weather the other weekend, so I decided to catch up with some yardwork at home. The first order of business was to get up on my roof and clear away foliage that was encroaching on my zero lot property from the neighbor behind us. Their palm fronds were touching our roof, so I needed to trim them back.

I did not realize how hot it would be up there, so eventually I had to doff my shirt. I don’t know how roofers and solar panel installers tolerate that kind of heat every day. I figured I could use the vitamin D while improving my “tan,” and yes, I did apply sunscreen at the behest of my wife. The additional benefit might be that I’d sweat off a few pounds.

When I was finished doing that, I decided to tackle our front yard. I leashed our dog Buddy in the shade to keep me company and to get him some fresh air. He’s my yard-work companion, although he probably prefers being inside with the rest of the family. Again, the heat was on, so I made sure he had lots of water and some treats.

Eventually, I was getting pretty wilted, but I wanted to complete the entire front so that I wouldn’t have to deal with it for a couple of weeks. As I toiled at pulling weeds, I couldn’t help notice that there were many cars driving down our cul-de-sac, apparently looking for parking. I watched each car like a security guard, as you never can tell these days.

In fact, I shot each car a pretty mean look to discourage anyone who might be “casing” our neighborhood. Buddy and I weren’t about to allow these strangers to think we were vulnerable to a break-in or robbery — not on our watch. Just then, my wife and daughter came out of the house and started to walk to the entry end of our street. I asked where they were going.

They said that the first house on our street was up for sale and was having an open house. That explained all the people driving down our street looking for parking. My wife said she wanted to see the home, which was very nice, in order to get some ideas on how we might fix up our house. Great, I thought, more work for me coming down the pipe.

When they returned, I asked them how it was and, of course, they marveled at some of the features in the home. Then, and I’m not sure if they were joking, my wife said, “Honey, the Realtor asked if you might put on a shirt, as you’re decreasing the value of the neighborhood.”