BREAKING NEWS- The Whale Fountains had been delivered!
I skipped- very literally skipped to the mailbox, like the total fool I was at the time. I may have squealed when I saw a little box tidily slipped into our mail cubby. There were some other miscellaneous letters that I decided to quickly glance at on the walk back to the house. Recycling. Recycling. (things like offers of discounts on car insurance from other companies! You know, Junk Mail) WAIT WHAT? Something from the Home Owner's Association?
What could it POSSIBLY BE NOW? I've seriously gotten "violation notices" because I leaned a roof tile against the gate so skinny chihuahua couldn't slip through the space between the gate and the wall. THIS WAS A VIOLATION. I cannot shake my head and roll my eyes enough, people. We are quite possibly the second cleanest, neatest, most conscious house on the street. (I'll get to the first in a minute)
With much trepidation I open the letter. One of the two stakes next to our slightly leaning, not wind worthy tree is not connected to the actual tree. And THUS. The stake must be removed. The stake that has been hammered 3-4 feet into the ground. I stared at it thinking "yeah, there is no way I can rip that sucker out of there."
My face went so red with rage. I flew off the handle on Twitter. (my apologies- that was a bit... much) I huffed and I puffed. I searched everywhere for a scrap of twine. I eventually found a rusty bit of old wire hanger deep under some leaves near the tree and attached the pole to the tree. With an ugly rusty wire. SUCK ON THAT, HOA! The GALL! The NERVE! Have you nothing better to do than to nitpick me into a fury?! There are much bigger fish to fry just on our street! I trust those overgrown-into-the-street bushes a couple houses down are getting FINED INTO OBLIVION, yes?
Onto the matter of the First Cleanest/Neatest house on the block. They are our neighbors to the west, and are the sweetest little retired couple. They are immaculate and quiet. Best neighbors ever. However I have to stifle a chuckle when I see her out every Friday trimming her bushes & trees. No fail. Every week. The plants don't even grow that fast! She prunes the bushes into perfect, yet tiny, circles. She has a tree across the driveway that is the exact species as the tree in my front yard, on the other side of the driveway. I give you this picture for comparison.
For the longest time I thought she perhaps was not watering her plants enough as this tree has CLEARLY been stymied in growth. But no! She trims the thing down. Most likely to keep the yard looking the same as the day it was planted, in 2007. She snips the flowers off the bushes just to make them the right size! Beautiful orange flowers! It's hilarious in its ridiculousness. But to each her own, I suppose.
ONTO THE WHALES.
I was ever so excited about the whales. I was positively giddy when they showed up. In some hilariously bossy packaging, nonetheless.
I lightly washed them in warm soapy water, as per instructions, then went to slap them onto the faucets and... WHAT IS THIS! They do not fit! Not even close! (if you heard a huge shriek in your area around 2:30 PST, well that was me doing the Defeated Scream Heard Round The World. It fits on none of my faucets but the kitchen faucet, and even then it impedes the hyperspray option, which we use on the regular. WHAT NOW?
I have to go out, tail between my legs, and buy some more of those awful paper cups, is what. And with every trashcan full of only paper cups emptied for trash day, I will die a little bit inside. Imagining the landfills full of cups, and all the trees that perished to make them. YEP.
Next house. I will replace the faucets if I have to, to fit the dang whale fountains. I WILL. This is the blood-oath I have taken with myself.