r-e-s-p-o-n-s-i-b-i-l-i-t-y house

This morning was the walk-through, when the buyer checks to make sure all the requested repairs have been made. a few things were left in the garage, but for the first time, the house was empty. Nothing on the walls. No furniture in the bedrooms. Just bare house. L., the realtor, and I walked through the house, trying lights and doors, looking through windows, peering into crawl spaces and closets. It was cold.

My relationship with what will in just a few days be our first home was already different. Instead of "what if," I saw responsibility. Every screw or nail in the wall needs mending. Every hole or scrape in the linoleum a job. I noted the oil stain in the garage, and both L and I noticed how much the deck is in need of repair. The blinders were gone today. It was a strange feeling.

One of the greatest surprises to me is how much I am looking forward to a garage. I had no idea I wanted a garage this badly, but I am nearly giddy about it. One of the first things I did today was walk out into the garage. I paced it out, and peered around at it. I opened the door, and drove the Nissan in "just to get a sense of where the cars will go." Yep, I was playing with it, and there was no difference in that moment between me looking over how much distance exists between the back bumper and the garage door and Caleb shoving his trains under a wooden overpass.

I am looking forward to having access to my cars for a change. To be able to change the oil or check the air in the tires without freezing or baking or leaning against someone else's vehicle. I'm looking forward to washing and waxing my cars in my own driveway with Kara. And maybe I can actually get all of the french fries, chicken nuggets, plastic kiddie toys, and paper straw wrappers out of the seats! Who knew I was a man in such need of a garage.

The back yard scares me. I'll give you that. Too much neglect. A lot of mud. A dog. Patchy crab grass. The whole thing needs to meet the underside of a tiller and it needs new plugs, as well as the fertilizer and watering that goes with it. There is a lot of hard work in every inch of it, and I have just never been a fan of that kind of work. I don't mind breaking concrete, splitting logs, mowing or trimming, but I do not enjoy tending to any growing thing.

As we were about to climb into the Nissan, I turned to look at the underside of the porch. A few wasp nests clustered under the tallest eave, some sixteen feet or so in the air. Just to the right, it seemed to me that vinyl siding around the fireplace needed cleaning. "I'm going to need a ladder," I said, and we drove off.