Anyone want to go camping? Last chance...

Let me first start by saying that I am perfectly aware that I lead a charmed life. Ok. Now onto the post.

We love our house. It is the Brady Bunch Dream House. Maybe not as swanky or pink as what Barbie landed, but we have plenty of fake brick and faux-rock accented walls. Join us for s'mores around our avocado green, mosaic tiled, round fire pit which is fully loaded with two electric burners and a 1978 Susan B. Anthony for effect. Take that Barbie. What we DON'T love is that our house floods. Every. Time. It. Rains. Don't believe that "It never rains in Southern California" malarkey, either. I have the pictures to prove otherwise. You see, the guy we bought from (we'll refer to him as Douche) is well, a douche. He did a helluva job covering up every last little bit of evidence that would show signs of water damage/flooding. Oh yeah. I'm totally calling Mike Holmes.*

Anyway- after months of work by our amazing attorney, Uncle Esquire,  the fate of our home repairs lie within Douche's ridiculously large, terribly expensive but not terribly valuable, 5th wheel toy hauler. You know what I don't need in my East County driveway right after I've died my hair pink?  The only thing worse might be a Fox Racing tattoo.

But guess what?!  Wednesday is the day that we get rid of the Beast.  It's on Ebay with no reserve.  We want it gone.  And come Wednesday, I will once again be able to change The Dude's diaper in the morning without staring at a 40 foot reminder that life is not fair.  You can be a lowlife liar, who is fiscally irresponsible and still walk away with no real ramifications.  He wasn't sad to give us this thing.  He couldn't afford the insurance or registration anymore and it was about to get repo'd.  And that's when I stop to remember.  Karma's a bitch.  He may not have had to fork over the cash it will cost us to fix this house, but he's definitely paying the piper.   I have this awesome house and he has a pending bankruptcy, an ugly divorce, an estranged daughter, a failed business and a $500 hitch he doesn't need.  Am I happy?  No.  I'm not.  His misfortune doesn't lessen my burdens nor does it bring me joy or a feeling of justice.  But it does put things into perspective.

This really is a fantastic house. We can have killer parties here and The Dude gets to play in a huge backyard.  I have 10 different vegetables and fruits growing in my gorgeous raised beds.  The dogs have opportunities to catch bunnies and gophers (but that's another blog post altogether) and someday I will have a chicken coop.    I make lavender lemonade from the Meyer lemons in my backyard. Sometimes coyotes wake us up at 4 a.m. And yet, I'm about 15 miles from the ocean and 20 minutes from just about anywhere in San Diego. It is as perfect for us as anything could be. I'm not thrilled at the idea of ripping out my driveway and the amount of money it will cost to "fix" the problems correctly.  But it really isn't so bad, and on Wednesday it'll be even better.  Life is good.  After all, not everyone has a coin collection embedded in their masonry.

*Turns out Mike is pretty popular, and therefor rather busy.  There are also some filming regulations or something so they only film in Canada.  At least I tried to "Make it Right."