THE PRINCESS AND THE DUDE IN THE WIFE BEATER

This is our house (pix from two years ago, before our “yard” was in). I think it’s rather nifty.

06.27 almost move in ready (2)

It sits smackdab in the middle of 10 acres (OK, a bit towards the southern property line, just in case any of you ever visit and decide to split hairs with me).

My husband’s “shop” was constructed towards the northern property line. There’s a line that runs between the house and shop: the lane.

Everything on THAT side of the lane is husband’s.

Everything on THIS side of the lane is mine.

So as a favor to a co-worker to Mr. DD’s BIL, he offered up HIS bit of property to “store” a POS Chevy truck (redundant) over the winter. Store, as in park the obnoxious garbage next to the shop. I bitched and moaned, but finally a compromise was struck, yes, he may park it, but it better be gone by spring (April).

It’s June and while the POS has been moved from one side of the shop to the other so he could mow, it is still here on HIS side of the property, but only barely.

I called the BIL myself and told him that his buddy needed to get the truck by the end of June or I’ll  have it towed away under the guise of unclaimed property, regardless of cost to me. Don’t care.

sidesTwo days later, the buddy calls Mr. DD and says he’ll be over to get the truck. You have the spare key, right, he asks, because he can’t find his. Mr. DD replies that yup, sure do, just moved it.

Guess what Mr. DD can’t find since he moved the POS?

DAMMIT.

I’m just waiting for the day I wake up and a band of rednecks have decided to squat on HIS side and celebrate with a case of Schlitz, funyuns, and pickled eggs after they throw a crappy couch in the bed of the truck to sleep on.

Mr. DD will be joining them.

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14 thoughts on “THE PRINCESS AND THE DUDE IN THE WIFE BEATER”

  1. Pickled egg!

    There’s a place in Madison that served the Wisconsin Beer Bomb — a PBR with a pickled egg in the bottom. You’re supposed to drink/eat them all in one gulp. Brad loves them.

    Husbands.

  2. Love the house. It is my dream to have around 5 acres some day. I experienced the same issue with husband storing a friends rusty old motor bike in the front yard for upwards of a year.

  3. My friends & neighbors tease me because I married Fred Sanford. He will pick up all kinds of trash that people are throwing out & bring it home. He has grand plans on restoring his “treasures”, but mostly they just take up valuable space in the garage. He *did* rescue a set of maple bedroom furniture from his uncles house that he stripped, sanded & restained for Maggie’s room. He is now working on a bed for Will.

  4. I’m sure you remember the love affair MFH and I have with a bow-tie vehicle……..there are not “POS” bow-tie vehicles. They are “restoration projects”. If he doesn’t come to get it, call me. We will. Restored, it will bring in a pretty penny up here in Big Sky Country.

  5. I now have porch envy.

    Um, please explain to me how someone has a vehicle that they don’t use or need for MONTHS and will park on someone’s property. Why not just sell it?

    Unfortunately, here in Arkansas, it is almost a law that you must have something – anything – in your yard that doesn’t work that can rust. I think it is in the neighborhood covenants somewhere.

  6. Mr DD must be BigD’s genetic twin. If that is the case, the key is in the pocket of whatever he was wearing the day he moved the truck, or maybe in the ashtray, or glove compartment, or in a drawer in the shop, or on a shelf somewhere…..all I know is that when this happens at our house, somehow it ends up being MY fault.

    I think that imaginary line between my side and his side will need a tall fence if he doesn’t find the key soon. (and what the hell is up with the truck owner not having HIS key…God, they are ALL alike aren’t they??!!)

  7. That IS a pretty house!

    Yeah, it’s funny, you always look down on houses with junkers sitting out on the property, until it happens to you. Ours is a Buick Roadmaster.

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