One would think, that since I clearly haven't had time to write, that I've been insanely busy cleaning and unpacking after my trip. One might not know me very well.
I even had a really good post ready in my head for the MamaBlogga group writing project, but I decided to sit on the couch with my husband, since he was home for the first time since I was. And I had a bunch of work to get done, even though I'm supposed to be on a little hiatus from work. It's not worked out so far, but I'm only eight weeks into it. I should finish up the rest of this in a few weeks and then take a good week-long break until I start taking fabric again. It's seems odd to have to tell people for three months that you can't work, only to get a week off, guilt free. Odd, and a little wrong.
But just today, I decided that I should go through the mail, decide if there were any bills that actually needed paying (surprise! there are!). And there it was. The dreaded letter from the homeowner's association.
We'd been four years without one, with neighbors who grew weeds my children would get lost in and parked their jet-skis in their yards. I loved it. We never really had need to not live in one, but I'm a little bit of a rebel, and just like to know that I can park my fictitious jet skis in my front yard and not have anyone say anything about it, except, "nice jetskis!"
But here we are, in violation. It's not for weeds, or our yard - my husband is meticulous, and takes great pride in having a perfectly edged yard. Ours is one of the more nicely kept yards on the block, if I may toot my husband's horn a little. It's my fault. It's my WT clothesline in the backyard. I'm sure the builders behind me are a little miffed by my clothesline, and place the blame squarely on it for the reason why they can't sell the house behind us. Not the fact that there are 48 of that particular model on every street.
So anyhow, I've been told to move it. Out of sight of the street or alley. Which it already is. I have a decision to make. Do I leave it up, out of principle, as it's really only visible from the second story of the neighbor's house, or do I act the good girl? I'd like to rebel, because I can, but my husband, the peacemaker, says that I should take it down since I'm not using it anyway.
Stupid rules. Snobby neighborhood. I like my clothesline.
White Trash in Texas