All in All, It's Just Another Brick in the Wall

So that thing about not having any major projects to do this year?

Yeah. My house didn't like that idea. 

I was all proud of myself this weekend when I got a "head start" -- I maintain that it's earlier than May, so it's a head start -- on doing spring cleanup outside. 

• Got the pre-emergent sprayed on the rock beds
• Did some far overneeded trimming on the shrubs
• Propped up the blackberry and raspberry bushes (and cheered that they were leafing!)
• Repaired the lattice work on my back fence (except for a piece that the deer destroyed and will go measure and buy that piece)
• Planted the new grapes

And then, when I walked around the side to the front to bring down branches, discovered this:

For the record, it didn't look like that on the preceding Thursday. 

I've learned more than I ever thought I could learn about retaining walls in the past 15 hours. Typical cost per square foot (sounds low at first, but OMG does that add up). Styles. Dry stack. Natural versus concrete. Different pre-fab companies. Different colors. How quickly it could take. Who my preferred landscaper usually works with. Who can actually do the job. 

All while pausing for a second to realize that yes, it is so stupidly expensive, but it's for the betterment of the house, and AT LEAST the upside is that no one got hurt -- not me, nor my neighbors' little kids, nor their dog. 

Don't get me wrong. I've hated this wall since I moved in. It's got to be at least 30 years old, is very obvious that it was not done professionally, and has had an obscene amount of moss on it. 

I just hadn't wanted to replace it yet, because these things are not inexpensive.

When I couldn't sleep Sunday night thanks to anxiety about "OMG I'm going to spend HOW MUCH money on a damn wall?" I realized that this was almost like the infamous crayon costume from my elementary years. 

Family policy -- and it was a good one -- was that a new costume was made on alternating years, and as long as the old one fit, it would be cycled in between. 

I was fine with the yellow crayon the first year I wore it -- either when I was 4, or in  kindergarten. But the second go around -- either first grade, or second grade -- I hated that costume. And if I'm remembering correctly, had no shame in telling everyone that I hated it. It was babyish, in my eyes, and even worse, it was yellow!

Crayon, take one

Cue Halloween night. I go trick or treating with my father, and boom. Face plant on an uneven sidewalk about 2/3 of the way through the neighborhood. Blood everywhere. On my face, and all over the costume. 

We go home, and my parents calmed me down. And I still remember, once the drama was over, a gentle teasing comment being made about how I hated the costume, but did I really need to destroy it? (That still to this day makes me laugh. I do not do things halfway!)

Wall, I hated you, but did you really need to go out so spectacularly?