The Origin of the Zip Code

I work with very special young people in a Life Skills program at a local high school. They love me and I love them. They love me so much, in fact, that they're always in my personal space, hovering around my desk and touching all of my stuff. I'd no sooner get up from my big, cushy rolly chair, and somebody would be in it. They would put their stuff in my drawers and take my stuff out. I can never get mad at my kids. They're way too cute! And they know it. Some of them don't get the concept of boundaries very well at all, you see. So one day, after the umpteenth Dollar Store cute thing on my desk got knocked over and broken, I started to define my boundaries. Well, it didn't work so well.

I took masking tape and placed a square around my desk and told them that if they wanted to come inside the line, they had to ask first. It didn't work at all.

I borrowed crime scene tape from the Forensics teacher and put it around my desk. Big waste of crime scene tape, that was.

One day we were discussing how to pay bills and mail letters. We were learning to write addresses on envelopes. We got to the Zip Code part and how each area has its own unique Zip Code. If you get it wrong, your letter might not be delivered.

Well, I don't know what came over me, but I told them that the area around my desk was my Zip Code. I even put up a sign with the Zip Code for Joshua, Texas. It's the only Texas Zip Code I know, and since I'm moving there one of these days, I figured...............Oh, never mind.

I have no idea why, but all of a sudden, the kids started asking me if they could come inside the Zip Code. They even stayed out of my big cushy chair. I had to start giving them permission to enter the Zip Code, and when I'd tell them to leave the Zip Code, they would. Without question. It's amazing!

So now I have groups that come back to the Zip Code for math, reading and science. I have kids who just want to talk come on back to the Zip Code. I allow our student aids to use the Zip Code when I'm not. And none of my Dollar Store cute things have gotten broken, either.

We have populated the Zip Code with all sorts of wonderful creatures, too. We have dancing donkeys, mischievous monkeys and wacky wildebeests. There's also a mysterious dog who never honors the five second rule. There are also several dinosaurs and at least six camels.

Jesus has also been known to visit the Zip Code wearing a purple robe and purple sparkly flip flops. He brings along his wife, Edith, and their eight children. Twins are on the way.

But that's another story altogether..........................................................................................................

For Sale by Desperate

I am the living example of Murphy's Law in action. For the past five or six years, I've watched real estate prices in my neighborhood soar and houses fly off the market in days. But what happens when I put my own house on the market? It implodes.



This is a metaphor for my life.



My new husband and I decided to sell our brick rowhouse and move to the wide open spaces of Texas about a year ago. We've spent a lot of time out there, visiting our two sets of best friends who live out there, coincidentally about twenty miles apart. Well, Texas is such a tiny little state after all........



So we spent about six months getting the house ready and getting things in order. We even got married. Finally, we chose a realtor and took the plunge.



And BOOM!



Now we sit here, six months and three price drops later, still waiting to sell this house. And it's not a bad house. It's really a very nice one, with lots of improvements. But here we still sit.



We have shown the house countless times. We get the call and go into Marathon Cleaning Mode. It's like when my mother calls and says she's coming over and I panic and go into Swiffer overdrive. Febreze is my new best friend. And Magic Erasers combined with Kaboom are a sure fire cleaning combination. But it's getting old, you know?



We even got an offer about a month after the house went on the market. And what an offer it was! These buyers already had a mortgage guarantee and all. And they really wanted my house. The loved it! So we anxiously waited twenty four hours for the offer to be presented by our realtor. It was $45,000 under asking price. They wanted us to pay all of their closing. They wanted us to pay for inspections and warranties. And make all repairs that were found to be needed by said inspectors. I was not pleased, to put it mildly. I was insulted, offended and majorly pissed off. And to add insult to injury, they also wanted the fish in the pond.



My realtor said it was a good offer because they had a mortgage, guaranteed. Otherwise, the offer sucked big time. So we countered at a good price. We would pay for a warranty and offer a credit toward closing and repairs. We would not, however, give them the fish in the pond. They have a new home waiting for them. We figured it was a fair counter offer and we'd meet in the middle. That's how it works on TV, yanno.



They refused the counter. They would not pay a penny more for the house and they wanted all their demands met. Wait a minute! Who owns this house? We do! See ya!



Even though five months have passed, I do not regret turning that offer down. After further investigation, which I am wont to do, I found out the buyers were only using the husband's income and credit. The wife's would not be used. She made more than he did. They were going to turn around and resell the house.



Oh, no. I think not. I was not born yesterday. Last Tuesday, maybe, but not yesterday.



So we have had a parade of buyers in and out of our house. And what a breed of intrepid adventurers they are!



We had a woman come to look at the house one fine summer afternoon. She walked in and said, "Oh! I don't to stairs!", and walked back out. Then why are you looking at three storey rowhouses in Dundalk? Duh!



We had a gentleman who said he liked the house but could not buy it because we have a handicapped parking space out front and he's not handicapped.....................We know where his sign is.



We breed and raise exotic birds. We have a room just for them. We always let people know about them and welcome them in, where they are noisily and joyfully greeted by the gang. A few people have been terrified of birds and left quickly. Some have stayed and played with the crew. One couple even adopted a pair. And one guy said he couldn't buy the house because he doesn't know how to take care of birds. We tried to explain that they're coming with us................

Some people shouldn't be allowed out of bed in the morning.



We had a couple come through who were appalled at the sight of our packed boxes. Um, folks, we're kinda MOVING!!!!!



One lady did not like my furniture. Well, hon, I don't like it either! That's why it's going to the dump and not moving to Texas with us. Either way, it's furniture! It does not stay.



One genius took offense that I have real solid oak floors throughout the house and not Pergo. Oops. Sorry. Let me get right on that.



A dear and darling lady did not appreciate the fact that I had painted neutral colors in all the rooms that were too close to white. Hey, lady! I watch HGTV! You're supposed to do that!



So I now feel that I can't win for losing. I could replace flooring, cabinets, countertops, appliances and fixtures, and the buyers would still find fault with it.



So I give up! I will clean and polish and Febreze until the longhorns come home, but I will NOT try and please the home buying public any longer. Someday, somebody will walk in and decide to buy the house at a decent price and everyone will be happy.



In the meantime, we shall be patient. Texas awaits. Acres of land, a one storey rancher, room for ponies and camels and burros and zebras............Cheaper utilities, no state income tax, lower property taxes, cowboys in tight jeans........................And all for under a hundred thousand dollars.



YeeHaw, Pardner!

Whatever Happened to the "Empty" in Empty Nest?

So here I am. Middle aged, a grandmother, a newlywed, foolishly thinking I'm going to have some time to myself, time with my new husband, time to enjoy seeing my youngest child through his senior year of high school to graduation. Then, total, blissful freedom! A new life in Texas!

Silly me.

Three days after my wedding my new stepdaughter and her son moved in. It would only be for a month, she said. And it was only for a month. I give her credit for sticking to her word. But what a month it was! I did not know people, especially ten year olds, could sleep until five or six in the afternoon. Of course, if their mothers let them stay up until dawn playing video games and blaring the television, I guess it's easy. I also did not know that "Feed the Dogs Until They Throw Up" was a popular game with ten year olds. It was with this one. It was a very long month. I did not think my new marriage would survive...............but it did.

And I spoke prophetic words to my new husband. "I know you wouldn't turn my kids away if they were in a jam."

I shoulda kept my mouth shut.

Oldest daughter, married four months and with an almost two year old, decides married life is not fun anymore. She wants a divorce. She moves back home. Then back to hubby. Then back to mom. Then back to hubby. Then back to mom. It was like a bad day at Wimbledon. Now she is back again. This time she says it's permanent. We shall see. She spends almost every waking moment with hubby, so what's the point?

I love having my grandson in the house. He is the most precious and adorable child. But I've long forgotten how to survive with a toddler in the house. And all of the toddler's toys. And all of the toddler's noise. But it is a total joy and I love every second of it. Bedtime, however, is a blessing.

Then there's middle daughter. The smart one. The college student. The one who has a great job, making more than I do. The one who never gave me a moment's trouble her whole life. The totally sensible one. The one who is now dating a married man with a four month old baby. Oy vey. I just don't know.

And my son. My darling son. The one I never thought would stay in school long enough to graduate. The one I've dragged kicking and screaming since Pre-K to get to his senior year, graduation on the horizon. What a relief! Well, he seems to think that failing his senior year sounds like a good idea. That way he can stay in school with this month's girlfriend. He seems to think this is a brilliant idea and is quite proud of himself. Can I beat him over the head with a two by four?

And did I mention that my house is up for sale so that my husband and I can move to Texas and begin our new life? And my house has to be kept clean and neat at all times because we never know when somebody will want to see it?

And do you want to know how much fun it is to sell a house in the current mortgage meltdown market?

You do?

Well, you'll just have to wait for my Blog on that subject.

Right now, I have to pick up Mega Blocks before the dogs eat them.

Wow! I finally have a Blog!

Well, I've finally moved into the 21st Century. I not only have a cell phone I can't figure out how to use, I have a Blog I don't know what to do with. What is a Blog, anyway? And why couldn't somebody come up with a better name than Blog? I mean, come on. Blog??? Sounds like something you need Drano for.

I have lots of stuff to write. Lots of stories to tell about life in my zip code. I'll get to that another day. Right now, I'm just trying to figure out if I'm really blogging or not.

A very special thank you to my friend Yvette, who convinced me to start a Blog of my own. I hope it'll be both fun and theraputic.