Our little old house is worth millions (to us)

We bought the house of our dreams in 1998. It is an old style range house. It was built in 1969. We paid $269,000 for it. It sits on a busy street. The tax guy says it is now worth $330,000. He wants to know if I want to appeal the valuation. The valuation is terribly wrong, but I won’t appeal. That’s because our little old house is worth millions to us.

Photo credit: The damn tax assessor. By the way, our address is 3910 South 27th Street, Lincoln, NE 68502.  For all those freaks who wrote that they wanted me dead after my partial-birth abortion decisions or my flag burning decision, if you show up I plan a warm welcome. I have a 50 year old .22 rifle that fires high velocity Remmington 22 shorts. Out of ten shots this year at the bastard bunnies, I got one. So, be  wary. By the way, fuck the NRA.

Photo credit: The damn tax assessor. Our address is 3910 South 27th Street, Lincoln, NE 68502. For all those freaks who wrote that they planned to kill me after my partial-birth abortion decisions or my flag burning decision, if you show up, I plan a warm welcome. I have a 50-year-old .22 rifle that fires high velocity Remington 22 shorts. Out of ten shots this year at the bastard bunnies, I got one. So, freaks be wary. By the way, fuck the NRA. What a bunch of assholes. 

 

Our backyard, oh dear, the backyard.

Joan labors daily with her extensive flower garden. I mean labors. She doesn’t like weed killing products. She weeds the very large garden by sitting in the weeds in her old sweat pants. The chiggers bite her. Those bites hurt and itch throughout the summer. She says weeding is relaxing. She doesn’t mind the the chiggers. The old woman can outwork most everyone when it comes to tending gardens. Her Catholic upbringing, so uncommented upon otherwise, is evident in her gardening. Hard work and the pain of the chigger is a gift from God. I don’t understand.

Since I have¬†been sick we have had a lawn guy take care of the grass. My little John Deere tractor that Scott Greenfield mocks, ’cause he has a that big John Deere Gator, sits unused in the three car garage. The lawn guy retired after serving as a fire fighter. He’s my age. He is lean and brown and strong and grizzled. He is profane. I like him a lot. He uses the same swear words that I do. I suppose it is a generational thing. His son, who will follow him in the business, is huge. He smiles as he toils in the 97 degree heat, giving off perspiration in wild streams. He seems content to perform the simple task of mowing. I envy him, and I am grateful for him too.

Our backyard, oh dear, the backyard.

IMG_1575

IMG_1552

IMG_1549

IMG_1583 (1)

IMG_1570

 

IMG_1575

 

Some things are more important than others.

RGK

%d bloggers like this: