You know that advice everyone's always handing out about buying the worst house in a good neighborhood? Well, we followed it. Our house can be described as ...
a. modest
b. unassuming
c. cottage-y.
d. quaint
e. ripe for the wrecking ball
Pick whichever you like: there are no wrong answers here.
On the bright side, this means our mortgage is really pretty reasonable, and since modest, unassuming, quaint little cottage-y tear-downs pay proportionately less in the way of real estate taxes, our taxes, while bad, could actually be a hell of a lot worse.
This also means we're basically mooching off the people who buy the big fancy houses, because they're paying much more in the way of real estate taxes than we are, and the local real estate taxes are the main source of funding for our kids' school. Yay us! Those suckers are underwriting our kids' education!
Of course, those suckers are also living in large, lovely houses. Their impeccably landscaped yards include formal rose beds or an darling little gazebo. They have a private beach. Or a pool. Their three-car garage has plenty of room for their luxury SUVs, Junior's rolling basketball hoop gadget, and Muffy's lacrosse sticks and field hockey equipment. Naturally, their landscaping company decorates the yard every December, but Mrs. Mansion? Prefers to wind the hand-made garland through the beautifully-restored antique stair railings and tie the wired ribbon bows herself. Mr. Mansion would help out, except he's too busy working out in their home gym, and after he showers, he's going into the wine cellar to inventory bottles.
I know. Envious much?
This explains why I was so happy today when I drove past a house and spotted a pumpkin on someone's front steps. I mean, holy shit, I'm a total loser, and even I ditched the Christmas wreaths a long time ago.
But a pumpkin? At this point, Halloween has been over for almost six months. Come to think of it, they might as well leave the pumpkin there. I mean, with their sense of chronology, it's practically October, anyway.
You know, something tells me the owner of that house is going to be my new best friend. I haven't met her, but I already love her. I should drop by with a plate of brownies and introduce myself.
Although from the looks of things, she'd probably be just as happy with a bowl of stale Halloween candy.
The pumpkin on the front stoop makes me think of my family's house...you should totally make friends with them!
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ReplyDeleteEwwww. By now, the pumpkin is probably decomposing and disgusting.
ReplyDeletetutu--It's like we're a secret society of lovable lame-os. Yes, I got rid of my Christmas wreaths, but it was during Lent.
ReplyDeletejen--It's a fake pumpkin. Which gives the owner a whole new set of big brass balls.
Hey, congrats on your new BFF!
ReplyDeleteI hear you on the McMansion folk--all that money and almost no creativity or originality in the lot. What astonishes me is that the McMansion people near our house have swingsets and Little Tyke toys which means they still have to fund COLLEGE atop the SUV payments and what all.
Oh, okay - fake pumpkin...I was wondering why the squirrels hadn't gotten to it. We have to put our jack-o-lanterns out no earlier than the 31st of October and then stand guard over them with a bottle of Windex to keep the pesky, bushy-tailed rodents off.
ReplyDeleteThey make me feel better about the year I left a scarecrow out so long that my best friend threatened to put a Santa hat on it.
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