He was being snide. He was referring to me. Like everyone else, we’ve been spending recent sunny days taking care of all the exterior maintenance that must get done between the last beach day and that sudden cold snap that makes it unpleasant to run around in shorts mowing, mulching and, excuse the expression, spreading your seed. Over the past few weeks home maintenance drama has reared its ugly head at Schnauzerhaven, and I, for one, am glad I can still laugh. Actually, I’m glad I can still stand up, given the amount of Kudzu and other propagating weeds I’ve bent over to yank from my shrubbery. Naturally, I bent over only when people I knew drove by. That’s not curb appeal. Embarrassing as it was, that was nothing compared to the garage door incident. On my way to work one morning I backed out of the garage and ran over a plastic flower pot. No big deal. I’d sweep it up later. It was just debris from the dead geraniums from our front stoop, now replaced by the soon to be dead Mums.
