This is what biting off more than you can chew looks like: Five acres. Four cats. Three lawnmowers. Two people. One set of parents. One rotten dog.
Fairly regularly, I have to remind my handsome husband (HH) (and myself) that we fought for these problems. And oh, did we fight. I’ll tell you about it one day. Which is to say that there is a lot to be grateful for.
Those five acres include our own little woodland, and I love it irrationally. It is astounding how quickly a bad mood can dissipate not 10 yards from my front door. A quick turn to the right and I can’t see any houses at all.
The four cats keep us humble.
The three lawnmowers are in various stages of functioning and repair, but we have them.
The two of us, against all odds, are making this work. HH is the only person in the world I would trust with an undertaking like this one – he’s been all in on all the crazy – and we might survive without each other, but thriving requires us both.
The one set of parents – my dad and stepmom – live in the addition and, since the decision that they were going to move in with us after we purchased this place was made in September 2017, dad hasn’t spent an unexpected night in a hospital or a nursing home. It beats the years from 2015 – 2017 when he was having infection after infection, in and out of hospitals, in and out of delirium, and not always expected to survive.
Then there is the rotten hound Charlie, our fragile rescue mutt. He’s four years old, has spent the last 2.5 years with us after being dropped off by his first family at the animal shelter, and has issues. We have an introverted dog. For real.
So that’s the framework for Wagner Woods, where contradictions reign supreme. We are 20 minutes away from downtown DC (give or take traffic) but you could plop our property down in any rural area between here and the Mississippi, and it would fit right in. I’m a homemade deodorant, sew your own clothes, and make your own kale pesto kind of broad with shaved pits and an extremely normcore job. At 10 am you’ll find me in front of a computer with a made up face, typing away like I know what I’m doing. By 8 pm, I’m either muddy, dusty, or greasy – lawn, drywall, or helping HH with mechanical stuff.
We are ADHD DIYers with social anxiety and a touch of recurrent depression, rabid animal lovers, introverts, liberal, bi-racial (I’m white, HH isn’t), and just barely holding it all together.
Yes, we bit off more than we could chew. And this blog is about that. Sometimes recipes, sometimes renovations, sometimes gardening projects. The fails, the wins, and the draws. No instagram filters, no BS.
There will be affiliate links – taking care of this old house and attendant woods needs all the assistance available – but I’m too tired to lie about my opinions on anything for a dollar. The trouble with lying is that you have to remember the lies and I’m struggling to keep track of my keys.