We have been taking advantage of a mild spring by trying to finish up landscaping tasks around Mine Shack II, the ones that got shucked last summer in favor of scampering about mountains and wildflowers... and, of course, working. It cripples nowadays, landscaping. I sure do miss that disc in my lower back.
It has been well over two weeks since we rolled weather dice and prematurely seeded a small lawn; at 8000 feet Lovely Ouray's safe-plant date comes in June. There were a couple of close call frosts but yesterday Bobbie found two struggling blades of grass between dirt clods and straw. Yeah, I'm hoping there will be a few more...
There are flowers, too... four hanging planters and a raised bed full. And let's not forget shrubs... Juniper, Potentilla and a Pretty-little-long-stemmy-yellow thingy; typical male, I've already forgotten her name.
All this work in hopes of seducing one from the millions of couples whose eyes flutter, jaws drop, and heartstrings vibrate to our little Victorian Village... enough so to bid "Springfield" good riddance and make out a check to Mark E. and Bobbie D. Johnson for the privilege of joining the neighborhood. Time will tell.
I'm tired of being cash poor at the expense of being real estate rich... especially when real estate goes on holiday. I'm crotch-sore from fence straddling... tired of pushing pause buttons on Visions of Sugar Plums that stir me awake in the midnight hour. The Universe should be ashamed of Itself, trying to teach patience to old men whose grains of sand are numbered. I am fast becoming an age sensitive impudent male-man; what better time is there for instant gratification than NOW.
And so, speaking of "fence straddling" and impudence, I must tell you that I have decided to go back to work as a Manager on Duty/Lifeguard at the Ouray Hot Springs Pool this summer. That's right, starting today, "Pool Boy... The Sequel;" at least until a house sells. Same for my Gallery Gal, Bobbie, only she is on reprieve till Memorial weekend.
Look, I've dreamt of a million "better-ways" to trade unfulfilling treadmills for Blue Highways... to trade mind numbing time clocks for new, more compelling realities. I even tried a few "will-write-for-food" ideas as you might recall... but that "grass" didn't grow any better than the seeds in my front yard. For the first (ok, maybe third or fourth) time in my life I feel like I've plateaued... that I might even have taken a step back. I'm officially, On Hold.
But I'm not blind. I look around and realize that I'm far from being alone in this Lifeboat... and that I should be thankful I'm not swimming. Glass half full, I guess if one must tread water what better place to do it than Lovely Ouray.
Time to go to work... maybe save a life. That should count for something.