That “To Do” List

Chipping away at that list of things that need to be done around the house and yard, and that makes me happy. I hate that term “deferred maintenance,” and all that it implies. To me, putting things off means that eventually you have a big mess on your hands that you should have taken care of bit by bit. And it signals to the world you don’t care about your property. So I have this list.

Today the tree men came to remove a large branch that had fallen off a neighbor’s tree but hung directly over our driveway where I park my convertible. Previous similar incidents have taught me, through my insurance company, that if it falls on my property, it’s my responsibility. When it fell the branch landed on another branch and was balanced there—a good wind could have blown it off, and I’m surprised it didn’t crash in that brief but furious windstorm last weekend. While here, the men also removed two large and long dead branches from the oak tree that’s directly out my office window. I was tired of looking at dead branches, and I know that they too were a potential problem waiting to happen.

Watching these two men work as a team was fascinating. They are obviously a team and have learned to watch out for each other. When one man started up a ladder, the other unconsciously moved over to steady the ladder even though he was talking to his boss on the ground. They use a kind of pulley and seat system to pull themselves up to high branches—it must take incredible arm strength. They know how to position a limb so that it does no damage as it falls. Even had to maneuver the one recently fallen branch around what looked like telephone lines or something—not power, I’m sure. The new break was bushy and full; other two branches had been dead long enough that they were bare. Still, they were long and good sized, and it took skill to get them down without mishap. And the men cleaned the driveway perfectly before they left.

Also made an appointment to have the yard sprayed for mosquito control on Monday. It took a lot of phone work to find a company that uses organic spray. Several companies ignored my query; one poohpoohed it saying nobody used organic. Well, you know what? I won’t contribute more toxic sprays to our atmosphere, let alone expose my family and animals to them.  Another promised organic repellent but nothing that would kill the mosquitos and larvae. It had to be renewed every two weeks—I didn’t even ask the cost. I settled on a man who answered his own phone—always a good sign to me. He says the spray they use is mostly eucalyptus and rosemary, but he added, “I have to be honest with you. I wouldn’t want you to drink it. It’s got to kill the mosquitos.” Maybe I should have asked what kills them and what percentage of the spray it is, but I didn’t. He was also honest about the time a treatment will last and its efficacy—90 days on average, 90 per cent effective. “But if you have a creek or your neighbor has a bad infestation, you’re going to see some bugs.” I proceeded on faith—hope it wasn’t misplaced.

And tomorrow, Jacob and I will check Sophie’s annual checkup off my list. Do you ever sit in your doctor’s waiting room worrying that he or she will find some hidden problem you’re not aware of? I don’t think that worry carries over to dogs—Sophie seems perfectly healthy to me, but she needs her shots.

Dinner tonight with Betty at Chadra. Jacob declined to go with us but requested we bring home meatballs and spaghetti. We had penne a la vodka, which has no vodka in it but was rich with tomato sauce, spinach, and mushrooms—so good. By the time we left, we had to-go orders for Betty’s husband Don (spaghetti with meat sauce) and for Jacob (spaghetti with meatballs), salads for each, garlic knots for each, plus a small container each of the penne we couldn’t eat. And our leftover garlic knots—Betty loves them and simply cannot let any go to waste. I had to carefully package our take-home foods so each of us got the right one. Jacob would have been devastated if he got meat sauce instead of meatballs—it doesn’t take much for devastation when you’re thirteen.

Can you believe I came home and ate a half a piece of pecan pie that Mary brought last night? Color me gluttonous. Now I need a nap.