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Browsing Tag: margaritas

Death by Guacamole

Six years ago, David and I were looking to buy a house that would become our first home–the very one from which I write to you today. It was such a miserable process that frankly I’m not surprised we’re not a) living in separate residences, b) each 150 pounds overweight, or c) running around in circles outside in our pajamas, ala Anne Heche circa 2000. We wanted a house with character (i.e., not in a new subdivision), with charm (i.e., old), and something that in no way would make us house poor. We’d made a mistake with our first apartment after we got married–we moved into a larger loft in my building, and it was the stupidest (yes, I said stupidest, because it really was) financial mistake we made in those early years. But we learned from it (and by learned, I mean, we both worked second jobs for awhile and watched a lot of HGTV), and became determined to not buy a house above a comfortable mortgage payment. It took us a year to find this house, and not just because I wanted a pool (priorities are…

Yard, We Will Conquer Thee!

I’ve mentioned before (do you remember that post? Just in case you forgot, oh dear and loyal reader, click here) that David and I are attempting to throw a landscaping coup: get rid of the old leader, Dictator Daylily McWeedsalot, and establish a new, kindler, gentler establishment for the asesthetic betterment of our family. As I may have also previously implied, this endeavor is sort of like deciding to go hot air-ballooning only to realize once you’re already up in the air that a) you’re terrified of heights, b) if you fall, there’s nothing but a desert full of hard sand and prickly cactus waiting to ruin your fun, and c) it’s a much better idea if somebody else captains the large pocket of hot air that keeps you alive and just allows you to enjoy the view. ¬†Which is how it went for us when we did go ballooning many moons ago, but that’s not we’re talking about today. No, today we’re giddy about… …gardening! If the past few weeks are any indication, it looks like our summer’s…